Old growth forest

This forest is especially dear to me - it's like an oasis. We had been hiking for several sun-scorched hours through shrubs and succulents, brushed past thorn-covered bushes, and then we had crossed the divide and entered the forest. Lush and green and cool and full of birds, water, and flowers. We took our hats off and sighed. And for the first time after hours of hiking in blazing sunlight, we were able to raise our heads and look up, sheltered from the sun by a canopy of leaves.

I basically grew up in forests, playing under beech trees and collecting colored leaves in autumn. I never have been able (and never wanted to) shake the feeling of awe and, well, shelter - these creatures have been there before my grandmother was born, and they will be there after my grandchildren have died. Or so I hope. I think we need these old trees, not for fuel or construction, but to teach us to look and plan and take responsibility ahead of our short lives. To anchor us in this world.