Big Basin is a California state park not far from San Jose. The toddling drive from Santa Cruz left me always expecting to find a larger road or at least some signage . . . my college friend, Karin kept reassuring me we were heading in the right direction and that we were on a HUGE road for the area. And then we were there.
Taking pictures of redwoods . . . pictures that communicate their scope and splendor . . . well, I haven't figured it out. It is similar to taking pictures of the Grand Canyon that convey depth.
Karin, who lives in a tiny cabin in the redwoods herself, was a delightful companion. She waxed eloquent about the smell of the redwoods in morning and taught me about fairy rings and fires. We described the emotional state of the various trees and/or the feel of a certain stand. Their age and height took hold of my heart and wouldn't let go. I like to touch them. Even those who had fallen had a certain feel of vitality to them.
The redwood's ability to survive the forest fires is a testament to stability and strangely encouraging to me. Seeing the charred but healthy trees -- charred from fires 50-200 years ago -- made me feel like a safe little girl.
These aren't redwoods, but they were such impressive little trees -- about to dance, having a lively conversation?
We drove through the park and got onto Skyline Drive. With views like this I didn't even notice how long it took to wind our way down to San Mateo.
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