Normally the van climbed gravel roads till we arrived at the appropriate moonscape of slash and broken trees twice burned. This day though our access to the tree planting unit was through a lush forest as only the Great Pacific North West can produce over the centuries of rain.
Our van stopped among trillium doted ferns under a canopy of green liken covered old growth Doug Firs. We were to bag up, cross a crystal flowing stream a couple of meters wide, and climb a hill where we would find the logged off area to, “reforest.”
While we were bagging up one brother went over to the stream and pulled out a clear orb about the size of a soft ball. The fresh clean mountain stream water dripping off this unadulterated clear gem left us in awe. We stood for a moment drinking in with every sense the life of the place. The life of the moment.
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