When Great Trees Fall

Yesterday I had the good fortune to hike the stunning trails of Lighthouse Park with my good friend Kelly. In town for a work trip, we found a free day at the end of a hectic week to do some adventuring up the Sea to Sky Gondola. We then made our winding way down the Sea to Sky Highway to Lighthouse Park, perched on the westerly tip of gorgeous West Vancouver.

We were awed by the sheer height of the towering red cedars and I’m afraid my shot above doesn’t quite capture the magnitude of the green canopy we walked under. Nor does it capture the succulent, green, intoxicating fragrance of ancient trees mixed with ocean air. But this photo does give me a chance to wish everyone a Happy Mother’s Day and provide a poem that may speak to those who find this day difficult. I am so lucky to have my Mum still with me. She is my best friend. She makes me laugh…a LOT! And I would miss her terribly if she were gone. This poem is for those who are missing their Mum today. It is by Maya Angelou.

When Great Trees Fall

“When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety. When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil in silence, their senses eroded beyond fear. When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We breathe, briefly. Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity. Our memory, sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken. Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us. Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened. Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance, fall away. We are not so much maddened as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves. And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.”