Wednesday 2 October 2013

Redwood Threnody


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Fog: the lifeblood of Coastal Redwoods. Purissima Creek Redwoods Open Space Preserve, California: photo by Bob Gorman (Roman Eye), 18 February 2010



Tree talk is the party line of the intelligent listening forest
the smooth voiceless no breeze whisper rustling
inside the green upper tiers fogbound blue
....the deep aether growth song stirring
down in each tender quiet working sub-earth redwood shoot

the old ones have a way of communicating with each other
....there are heart flutters in the dark air
with the chainsaws arriving at dawn



http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/04/Family_ring_of_redwoods.jpg

Family ring: ring of coast redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens) sprouting from stump of older tree, Muir Woods National Monument: photo by Edward Z. Yang, 19 June 2005
 


Foggy redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens), Redwood National Park, California: photo by Scott Catron, 2 August 2003


File:Trees and sunshine.JPG


Sunlight shining through redwoods in Muir Woods: photo by Rich S5812, 2007
 



Coastal redwoods, Muir Woods: photo by Zoo Music girl, 25 September 2012


Coastal redwoods, Muir Woods: photo by Steph Gajewski (sig1025), 27 April 2011

21 comments:

  1. I had friends who used to go up to the top of those Redwoods to study the life forms that for eons had lived up there....

    that word/sound "shootthe" ....

    nice, precise "Senior Word"

    communicationing.

    Chainsaw Massachre .... a metaphor for our fucking culture !

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  2. Ed,

    The two big ones here are 107 years old, won as potted-plant prizes at the 1906 SF World Exposition, and they have held this crumbling landfill hillside together through all the rocking of the faults over the very many years. In dubious thanks, successive generations of property owners have laid siege to them more than once. Meanwhile the abundant local ecology they create has made this little patch by the freeway feeder a home to many wild critters, some seen (raccoons, possums, squirrels, crows & c.), others microscopic.

    The latest ripsnorting assault of the contracted professionals is scheduled to begin in, let's see... two and a half hours.

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  3. Hey Tom,
    as I recall my friends, who went to both Reed and the University in Eugene worked with this guy, Richard Preston. I think that he was the very first human to go to the top of a 400 for Sequoia .... I remember Judy and Chip telling me that they actually stayed on... camped on the top for a week at a time to study and document the microorganism life forms THAT ONLY LIVED THERE....

    Hey, watch this film... it will shooththe through your mind and forever reside in your imagination :

    http://www.ted.com/talks/richard_preston_on_the_giant_trees.html

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  4. after watching this film.... and now just beyond the chills and the foggy-eyes I noticed that he (and his group went up and into this Tree Culture
    in 2008 ... that's about 40 years after my friends and their friends so did !

    I also got a chill with his observation/ words:

    "redwoods grow back into themselves" [and I guess that he is saying that
    the giant redwood support and nourish their own being ?

    sdo

    even if they are cut dow
    with such an huge root system
    they will
    eventually, it may take them 4,000 years to so do
    reclaim their environs ?

    also it struck me that there remains only 4 % of the redwoods .... is that what these morons are cutting down ?

    where the hell are the protesters ? Standing in line to get a job at the mall that will be built on the newly cleared area ?

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  5. Ed,

    The most notable reaction to clear-cutting of the coastal rainforest has been tree-sitting.

    What's about to happen here, on the other hand, is being called "lifting the canopy".

    (As in, take a seat right over there, relax, ignore the whine of the saw and have a nice canopy-lift, ancient museum of a million living micro-worlds...)

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  6. Amazing, these trees, all trees. Near here, on top of Salt Pond Mountain, there used to be a stand of giant hemlocks, the trees Preston refers to as cousins of the West Coast redwoods. People around here called it a virgin forest. The trees somehow survived the great timbering-off that commenced with the coming of the white man. (We're far to quick to see only the monetary value in anything.) Those primeval trees and the eco-system they created were about an hour’s hike off the dirt road that went over the mountain. They’re gone now. Over the last thirty-plus years we’ve watched them die, from both the wooly adelgid invasion and from air pollution that blows down from industrialized areas up north, the same poisoned air that’s also killing off evergreens growing along the ridgelines. I quit going there years ago. Too god damned depressing. The last thing the trees need is me moping about. “Los árboles mueren de pie.” "Trees die standing up."

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  7. the Salt Pond Mountain that I know is near me.... down in Virginia ... the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia
    on the Trail of the Lonesome Pine....

    where is the one in California ?

    and are y'all near Takilma ? I got stories circa 1973 of there.....

    those dirt roads going up the mountain.... logging truck non-sto haul-assing down the mountain road caring cut trees chained to the flat-bed trailers....

    even Gary Snyder and his buddies were afraid of them.... they moved safely wayyyyyyyy up north
    just ahead of the pollution that followed them up the coast .....

    y'all out there yet wearing gas masks ..... and

    are you west of the fault line waiting for the land's fall into the Pacific ?

    I mean, with no Redwoods', Sequoias', and Cedars'

    deep-deep root systems

    who's / what is maintaining the INTEGRITY of the land? Mother Earth ? or Mother Feinstein ?



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  8. Tom,
    Yes, "Tree talk is [still] the party line" -- in some places at least, the walk down Steep Ravine trail from Pan Toll (as you'll remember), where looking up through those "old ones" one can still catch a glimpse of something not unlike the last photo here (Steph Gajewski's Muir Woods). Hope those chainsaws have left you in peace by now.

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  9. what trees! WOW!


    jogger's lane
    rush

    morning
    some

    trees

    un
    der

    construction

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  10. WILL WE HAVE TO INVENT OUR OWN FOREST OF TREES?

    Will we have to invent our own
    forest of trees, O God, our own

    clear-water lakes reflecting back upside down in
    rippling spindly black
    the pine-trees lining them? The peaceful
    ivory pavilion, match-light to light up
    iron lanterns on hooks, a little
    orange light inside the
    forest deeps with a
    bright day-blue sky above it all, as in a
    painting by Magritte? Will we be

    forced to eat what we ourselves have
    made of this earth, or will You bring it all

    back for us? Could we be
    turned completely around in ourselves to face
    renewal on our own?

    To shave our
    excesses back to the bone,
    the shining white sentinels of our assembled
    bones, semaphores on a
    dark horizon to generations yet
    unborn?

    2

    Maybe we've tried to
    disinvent it, Lord, take the whole thing
    down tack by tack, atom by
    atom, to fly the
    threads that hold life together in the
    air like tentative webs looking for a
    new landing ledge. We've tried to

    draw up out of life's bowels everything useful to make our
    machinery run — we'll

    suck it dry to make our
    machinery run! We've

    put our faces flat down onto its grate to
    scare it into submission, Bikini Island, un-
    inhabitable now, Chernobyl, ghost-town of a
    thriving city, dead
    electric wires like
    tightropes whose tightrope
    walkers have all
    fallen to their deaths during the
    Saturday matinee.

    We tear into her with childish eagerness.
    We're too
    sophisticated now to have to approach the
    earth with anything like
    reverence...

    3

    When we
    reduce the universe to a
    sigh or
    wisp of smoke
    twisting above a Formica tabletop in a
    lab, we still find ourselves
    gazing at a
    reflection of
    ourselves. Wave of green

    light in the
    air above the tabletop, emerald-flecked
    suds of light broiling froth from
    eternity to eternity in the

    darkened lab after hours, droplets of original
    matter forming on the inside of the
    outside, and all along the
    rim of the
    rimless, but one single

    real seed in the belly of its
    sprouting has all the
    quintillions of creation's

    live energies within it to prove beyond the
    power of doubt the

    resiliency of blooms that go

    even past the death of nuclear rooms.

    Even past the
    death of nuclear rooms.

    4/19-25/90
    ________________
    (from A Maddening Disregard for the Passage of Time, Ecstatic Exchange, 2009)

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  11. Beautiful poem on a sad topic. BTW, back when roads were smaller and vehicles followed suit, Mechanized Man simply cut a roadthrough the redwood’s intestines rather than lopping off its entire body.

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  12. Extremely beautiful and utterly heartbreaking. I only once ever spoke on an actual party line -- many years ago, obviously -- when a kind woman out in a very rural location accepted my request to use her phone to call home so that my family wouldn't worry about me. I'm glad I had the experience. At this remove, I would have a difficult time explaining to my daughter and her friends what a party line is/was and how a thing like that existed. Curtis

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  13. Some exhausting noisy days later, I've just lost the comment explaining how this battle went, that is, in that way we ought to have known it would go, the way it was always going to go, the way it feels like all the battles have been going and are going to go, it wasn't even really a battle, we submitted passively as is expected of the old and powerless, knew we had lost the battle even before it began, the trees had lost their thick lower tiers, the wild colonies therein had lost their naturally furnished apartments, and the continuous lethal roar of the freeway feeder was amplified x hell-decibels as if "miked up" due to the removal of the thick baffle of living greenery which protected this derelict oasis of the elderly until Monday last.

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  14. (And by the way, no -- of course, you can't really have wondered -- we did not "own" those trees.)

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  15. Tom:
    I missed something... What WAS the original reason that they cut these trees down ?
    A threat to National Security ?

    or was it that they wanted to use them to make a diorama of a Redwood Virgin Forest in the National Museum of American History and charge admission for future generations of poets to ogle ?

    one of my greatest pleasures/memories is being with Judy "x" under a giant Sequoias or Redwoods and non-stop fucking in nature surrounded ..

    they and I just majestically stood erect and waved, unashamedly, in that warm-Pacific breeze....

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  16. They said it was about the light.

    But the arborist pointed out it's a north facing slope. No light.

    You know you're in deep trouble when the professionals get caught agreeing you.

    The genie of the domain said, politely, Please spare the trees.

    The owner of the trees said... nothing... went away... and when the trusting genie had turned her back -- armageddon.

    So that was that. They were "his" trees.

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  17. gee
    what ever happened to your political leaders ? They all must be here in D.C. creating a police state and masturbating ....

    those north-slope giant trees were the only thing in the way of all of that California pollution/smog from traveling up into Oregon and Washington ?

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  18. the smooth voiceless no breeze whisper rustling

    the deep aether growth song stirring

    I love the half echo of the metre here.

    Visiting friends in Llan Ffestiniog, we took a walk through the old deciduous woods. Nearer to the village you come suddenly to a commercial conifer plantation; all sound stops and the air hangs lifeless.

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  19. I've disconnected my Facebook account this week (I don't know whether weakness or simple stupid curiosity made me start it and I don't think it was moral strength that made me discontinue it; just a physically sick feeling brought on daily facing an Old Faithful of verbal abuse and self-abuse), but if I hadn't and it would connect with this, I'd hit the "Like" button, especially for Wooden Boy's last comment, which really hits home. Curtis

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