On the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada
sugar pines and black oaks grow;
red firs and snow plants flourish.
Sequoias, the biggest trees in the world,
some taller than a 25-story building with
trunks so large, forty people holding hands
would just barely circle one of them.
Home to countless birds and insects;
thousands of generations of bears and deer,
wolves and weasels passing by their trunks.
Surviving thousands of thunderstorms;
Surviving hundreds of forest fires.
One of nature’s wonders,
one of its most impressive triumphs,
I am writing a poem each day in April to celebrate National Poetry Month. This poem has been adapted from a nonfiction book to celebrate the giant Sequoias that grow on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California. When I was a little girl, my great grandmother traveled to California to visit relatives. One of her favorite memories she shared with us was her great astonishment of the size and age of these giants and their incredible beauty.
Adapted from While a Tree Was Still Growing…
by Jane Bosveld
Workman Publishing Company,