The redwood groves are the places where the grown-ups go to become children again. To recapture the sense of awe and of wonder and of sheer fundamental *faith* that gets eroded by the twisted and cynical real world on a daily basis. There was a poem etched into a display board near one of the big trees - and although it seemed more intent, as and of itself, to make sure things rhymed properly than to achieve a sense of real poetical vision, I can't take issue with the sentiments. The final two lines go something like this: "So, traveller, sink upon your knees/ God stands before you in these trees."
I know, speaking for myself, that I walked into the presence of the great redwoods with humility and astonished delight. Another theory that
All I know is that there were times in these past couple of weeks when I was a child all over again, renewed and refreshed and confirmed in my innocence while being filled to the brim with a sense of gentle power, and heartbreaking beauty, and slow beneficent wisdom.
I came home with more than four hundred photos - but the more enduring kind will always be the ones that I took with my heart, and keep close in my memories.