Embrace of the mother tree

Suzanne Simard: "When Mother Trees—the majestic hubs at the center of forest communication, protection, and sentience—die, they pass their wisdom to their kin, generation after generation, sharing the knowledge of what helps and what harms, who is friend or foe, and how to adapt and survive in an ever-changing landscape. It’s what all parents do." (From the Introduction, p. 5).

We drove up to "Paradise," where all the trails are still buried under about 7 feet of snow. We explored the Lodge run by the National Park Service--massive furniture made of logs, huge fireplace, and a large (closed) dining area. Because of Covid, only take-out food is available. We had a sandwich. There was plenty of activity: busloads of young people from all over the world were arriving with bags of gear: ropes, axes, things I don't even know the names of. A few old people like us were stumbling around, half-blinded by the snow. We came back down to Longmire, where we're staying, and Sue went on a four-mile hike up "Rampart Ridge" (1350 feet of elevation) while I ambled through the forest looking at mother trees and mushrooms, making photographs (see Extra) of fallen giants.