These trees rise higher than a 35-story skyscraper — taller than the Statue of Liberty! But to me, the true wonder of these trees is not that they are the tallest living things on Earth. It’s something else.
Just as a city is more than the concrete and steel of its skyscrapers, the wonder of redwoods lies in the relationships of the trees with their environment, with the animals that live among them and with people.
The Pacific fog that drifts in during California's dry summer provides nearly one-third of the moisture that sustains these forests. Redwoods can literally drink from the atmosphere, absorbing water directly through their leaves.
For such towering trees, their roots are surprisingly shallow. But neighboring redwoods often graft their roots together, creating networks that help them withstand powerful storms.
And those massive trunks support hidden worlds. In the canopy, fallen leaves accumulate into mats of ferns, mosses and soil. Insects, birds and even wandering salamanders live in these hanging gardens.
For centuries, people have also depended on redwood forests — not only for wood, but for beauty and spiritual renewal.
As we celebrate the 250th anniversary of our nation, the redwood forest offers us a reminder. Its strength doesn’t come from height alone. It comes from their connections.
Perhaps that is true of our country as well.
