The sky’s white met the sea-white horizon, hanging a haze over the dripping, cool, but somehow warm(?) day…and the greens! My goodness! The greens! Every evergreen that ever evered seemed to grow here by the ocean….and the sea took great delight in her bonsai art, sweeping conifers into permanant wind blown shapes. And so many greeny green green trees are cloaked in their winter lichen velour wear. A little finch with bright yellow rock-n-roll eye makeup flitted about for her photoshoot.
On the Visit to the Ent
Reluctantly leaving the coast, and tip-top full drunk on Sea Vibe, we headed back toward Portland. And there on route 26, surprisingly was a sign that pointed to the oldest Sitka spruce in the country, who, at 750 had just last week been severely damaged in a vilent storm. We U-turned and pulled off the road, crossed a little bring and there he was…it was as though we’d entered a hushed cathedral- the nearby road noise pushed out by the sanctity of the place, adn no other humans near. His enormous wide base and trunk was nubbled and lichen covered and branches finally spread out near his top. A searing gap had opened in the tree about ¾ of the way up the trunk, cutting a deep spiral gouge, and the platform was littered with bloody, meaty, sawdust-like wood-tissue. Even though the tree and his wooden platform had been roped off due to falling branches (and perhaps a final whole-tree fall), we took our chances, ventured close, caressed, sent love, bowed and honored the spruce in all his grandeur. He was surrounded by his towering, vibrant, full grown children…standing watch, holding vigil for him. 
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