I do a lot of writing that to be honest 99 of 100 times, no one sees. But this was a writing prompt by a friend of mine on Facebook. Write about a place in nature that brings you tranquility.
I am surrounded by literal giants. Not the mythological kind, but the honest to god, in real life giants. It’s currently snowing with just under two feet of it surrounding me in almost every direction. A snowball flies past my head and I turn to run away, when my foot hits a soft patch and I sink in and tumble over, unable to control my laughter. I lay there on my back and stare up at the giants that surround me. They are beautiful, intimidating, wonderous, and calming.
Sequoia National Park in California is home to some of the largest trees in existence. Up to 300 feet tall and over 25 feet wide, it’s easy to believe the mythological giants from fantasy and old fables actually existed and built homes out of these things. The trunks of some of the oldest are so big you could probably hallow it convert it into one of the popular tiny homes you see on TV and the internet.
An hour from our home in Visalia, California, my family would make random trips to mountainous region to see the small towns in the area, and visit local festivals being held. Some of the best apple cider I ever had was in one of these small events being held through the downtown are of these small cities.
Most the trips, however were taken to see the wildlife, and see the snow. Having grown up in the Midwest, and now living in central California, this was the only opportunity my parents had to see snowfall, so we took the trip multiple times over the 4 years we spent living in the area.
This memory stands out more than most in my life. The deafening silence of the snow falling around me. The tall trees reaching to the sky trying to touch the clouds. The cold fresh air burning as it entered my nose and filled my lungs. The laughter of other people in the area, voices of my parents in the distance telling me its time to go. It’s forever engraved into my brain as one of the most peaceful times in my life.
Only a handful of years later, my father would be gone from cancer, my mother and I would move back to Kansas City, and nothing would ever be the same. Life went from a quiet moment of bliss to a full throttle, no seatbelt, onward trajectory of growing up too soon, and too fast, and life never really letting off the gas.
Now living back where my parents were raised, most of the people who grew up in the area are over it once the first snowfall has happened. I’ll never let it go though. Through all the moments that have challenged me in life, there is always that moment of quiet. That moment of peace. That moment when nothing around me mattered, life stood still, and the giants watched over me and made sure I was ok.
