Childish Empires and Ancient Trees (plus bears & meteors)

August 14 –

            Giant Sequoias. Muir Grove, Slight Return. Today I finally wander back to where my epic Summer began. On this day, a light rain falls (thankfully wetting the parched ground) during my late afternoon saunter. After two months of dishing them out, I’m certain there is no longer a need to wax poetic with more flowing adjectives trying to describe the grandeur of these places. So I won’t.

            I finally saw Brother Bear out in the wild today. I was perched on an old fallen Fir tree surveying the valley and the Big Trees below me when a loud crashing sound suddenly hit the manzanita brush some 50’ away. Instantly recognizing who was paying me a visit, I glimpsed a large black bear about to enter the clearing below me. I quickly clapped my hands and shouted. Brother Bear is quick. Without even glancing towards the sound, he stops on a dime, turns 180 degrees, and bolts back into the brush. “Minimal Action Required to Scare Off a Large Black Bear” hypothesis confirmed. I would get to test this hypothesis a few times over the next few weeks – yup, it works each and every time. Black bears are very, very shy and terrified of us, there’s no need for us to be scared of them. That day, I might have liked to let him come closer so I could observe a little more before chasing him away, but I know well that a bear scared of humans is a healthy and safe bear. A bear used to people and/or addicted to human food is a dead bear. So please don’t worry so much about your blurry out of focus picture the next time you see a bear near a campground or a road. Scare him away. Keep him healthy and safe.

            Meteors. The weekend before my Muir Grove jaunt – despite the first cloudy weekend of the entire Summer – while camped at about 9,000 feet above sea level, we were able to witness quite a scintillating display during the annual Perseid meteor shower. Though we got rained out during the actual peak night, for several days leading up to and several days after the peak, we were given quite a show by the stars. I had never seen a meteor streak literally from one side of the sky to the other. Every four or five minutes, we would all gasp and then laugh and smile in appreciation. During the whole month of August, at every opportunity we had to sit facing a clear night sky after sunset, we would wait patiently for the grand show to commence. It was if the Gods were playing catch with ancient celestial lights, crisscrossing the universe in brilliant flashes. Divine.

            After such intense “nature experiences,” I am pensive and deep in it while roaming Muir Grove. Odd that we should feel so separate from these normal experiences, from this very normal contact with the Earth and all her marvels. It’s as if we aren’t even a part of it. I’ve been searching for an answer… what led to this separation? It is not “normal”. It is a very recent condition of humanity. How did we get here? This day I’m thinking about what we label “civilization” vs. all that is “wild.” When did we stop being in awe of the Earth and wildness and start worshipping ‘civilized’ empires and control of Earth? In an honest analysis, which of these worldviews truly promotes longevity, survival, balance? As we search for understanding, methinks that we’re taught to ask the wrong questions, and therefore cannot possibly find the right answer. So we have to ask a different one: How can those who created the mess possibly provide us with the solution to said mess?

Something occurred to me while admiring the ancient trees of this grove. I think I finally heard what they’ve been trying to tell me all Summer. Giant Sequoias are often 3,000+ years old. They really don’t ever die of old age, and make our own short saunters on Earth seem like the blink of an eye. The only forces strong enough to bring old grandpa down are generally:
1) Lightning (though usually it just blows the top off and the tree continues to grow anyway);
2) Fire (though you’ll find trees with entire sides thoroughly cooked and blackened while the other side continues to grow anyway);
3) Soil erosion, though usually from thousands of several ton vehicles rumbling far too close to them, shaking their shallow roots and loosening their shallow soil bed to the point where they simply fall over (see the famous “car tree” from Yosemite); or,
4) The worst culprit: a chainsaw or an axe wielded by a lost soul or two.

            Without the intervention of one of those four, they may well live forever, it seems. Awe inspiring, isn’t it?! I have seen dozens of grandpa trees with half of their bases gone; enormous holes burned through their trunks; limbs and tops shattered by multiple lightning strikes… yet on they grow, ever expanding, ever upward. More than anything else in recorded world history, it seems, these conifers know how to survive.

So, follow me here, historians… the longest empire in the history of “civilization” was arguably the Romans. Depending upon whom you ask it lasted maybe 1,000 years, correct? Even that is pushing it, given the destructive cycles and constant warfare during that time. Every other world empire has come and gone within, at most, a few centuries (as many did in Asia and Africa.) Yet the damage and disgrace done to just about every living thing on Earth due to this history of military, political, and economic empire cannot be calculated. Everywhere civilization has attempted this madness, the Earth is left sick and shattered. The USA’s own arrogant attempt to rule the Earth has lasted a mere 200+ years, and some argue that it, too, is about to end in disaster. If we are as intelligent as we claim to be, we should reject these legacies and toss them into the dustbin of history. We should be studying different legacies; asking different questions. Yet we continue to idolize and worship humanity’s perverted attempts at ruling the Earth and its creatures at the expense of our awe and reverence towards Mother Earth… and at the expense of those traditional communities who understand this all very, very well. ‘Civilization’ continues to think that it is in control. These stories continue to trick us and cloud our minds with the wrong information. The wrong answers.

            My point? Any ancient Sequoia tree you might choose has outlived every attempt at “civilized” empire… by three times, at the very least. Often ten times over. Sequoiadendron giganteum easily survive, thrive and live in balance for millennia, centuries longer than anything else (excepting the rocks) in the history of this good Earth… no violence, no war, no greed, no arrogance, no exploitation, no consumerist haze, no -isms needed. How do they do this? What is their relationship to the Earth? How do they live with their neighbors? What do they provide for the animals, the plants? How do they use the water, the air, the sun? How do beings so enormous so peacefully co-exist in balance with literally everything around them? What are these ancient trees trying to tell us? Indeed, what can we learn from wise old grandpa Sequoia? What can we learn from the communities that have always listened to wise old grandpa Sequoia?

            If the goal is indeed to survive, thrive and live in balance, shouldn’t we all be studying and following the lessons of less childish empires, less politics, less economics… and more ancient trees? Shouldn’t we all be studying and following the lessons of the Earth?