Standing by the elephantine base
of the giant sequoia, we are dust
motes in the giant’s shadow.

Shaggy red bark bears scars of
wildfires perhaps a thousand years
old. Craggy branches the size of

stout trees sprout one hundred
feet up the trunk; feathery tufts
of greenery veil the sky.

Our necks stiffen looking up
at the giants, trying to grasp their
immensity— their solid mass

magnified from our ground vantage.
We try to imagine how many
of us would be able to grasp hands

around the giant’s base—ten, twenty,
more?  But the fence protecting
its shallow roots stops us from

rushing to join hands and dance.
The giants have lived 2,000 years. Now
people and climate make their impact—

air pollution, drought, and fierce fires  
prevail. At this very moment, we
smell smoke.


© by Norma Wightman.
Used with the author’s permission.

Photo credit: Norma Wightman