I had always heard of the bristlecone pines. So when I saw the sign in Big Pine, CA on US-395 on my way north on Friday, I promised myself I would scout them out on the way home on Sunday. The closest grove is only 25 or 30 miles off the highway but you climb the White Mountains to over 10,000 feet on winding roads. So the drive takes well over an hour.

It is coming! I sit on Mother Earth and tuck up my legs. In the presence of this magnificent tree I feel small, inconsequential. The same way I feel when I lay in my sleeping bag, looking up at the star filled sky. I am at peace. My mind is free of the distractions of ordinary life. I feel the earth turn. I feel the sun sinking behind me. I feel the moon rising in the sky, chased by the rainbow of the earth shadow, peaking at me through the branches of this ancient being.