I’m declaring September “Redwood Tree Appreciation Month.”

Did you know redwood trees are aware of your presence and your thoughts?

If you breathe, a redwood tree is, on some level, aware of it.

The redwood can handle it. It’s part of the fog and climate and spiders and critters of every moment.

Redwoods remember everything. And then immediately forget it. In an endless cycle, like the tides.

There is a full moon nigh. For a redwood, moonlight tickles.

Remember the fires? Some still raging. These bring back a lovely memory of a funny thing that happened 20 thousand years ago.

So redwoods are chuckling with the ravens.

Hilarious.

Don’t get too close to redwoods. They like everything just the way it is.

Did you know that a redwood tree actually can hug you? The awe you feel is the redwood’s ancient way of greeting.

My sister has a dawn redwood by her back fence. My sister calls her tree Dawn, in a familiar, fond way. Dawn is in the back garden, a few feet west of the garden spider’s web. My sister will not permit the spider to be disturbed, so tread carefully.

Dawn is from China, originally. That is, the dawn redwood differs significantly from our California Coast Redwood and Sequoia, and the dawn redwood predominates in China.

There’s even a dawn redwood back home in Ohio. I know: coincidence. It’s a young tree but already tall, commmanding a quiet street corner in Broadview Heights. My twin walks her yellow lab Echo around that block. The crisp air must smell of autumn; other leaves, but not those needles of the dawn redwood, are turning, changing color.

Redwood and fern represent the most conservative picture of what this vast continental environment once was. The trees remember. The deer look back at you, too.

Remember: if you don’t like this redwood news go out and make some of your own,
as Scoop Nisker used to say.