A pilgrimage is what it is. Some go to Mecca. Some to the Vatican. In great numbers all around the world, people flock to those places where their chosen religion was birthed. That is not the case for me. The only flocks here are composed of birds, and even they are low in number. Elder trees require a respect that I am still learning how to give. I wish I spoke more of their language or knew how to listen better to their whispers.
My elders are the Great Basin Bristlecone Pines of the West. They are the oldest non-clonal species on the planet Their refuges are few. Great Basin. White Mountains. The Great Basin Bristlecone pines are an extremely rare species found only in California, Nevada and Utah. The dispersion of this species is perhaps thanks to the wind, or the Clark’s nutcracker, or maybe some other bird that is now extinct, as they may have traveled with the seeds to other remote areas of high elevation.
Bristlecone pines grow in isolated groves just below the tree-line. The conditions in which they live are harsh (with temperatures that drop well below freezing), a short growing season, and high winds that twist the trees into almost human-like forms along their limestone ridges. Because of these conditions the Pinus longaeva grow very slowly, and in some years do not even add a ring of growth. This slow growth makes the wood very dense which provides resistance from insects, fungi, rot, and erosion. And at high elevation the Great Basin Bristlecone pines spiral out from seemingly impossible soil of limestone rock; this too proves favorable for the ancients. They grow where most other vegetation cannot, limiting the impact that a forest fire might havoc on their near-eternity. Among the bristlecone in the Inyo National Forest of California is one named Methuselah. According to tree-ring data, Methuselah is 4,853 years old — meaning it was well established by the time ancient Egyptians built the pyramids at Giza.
For me, these trees are both artistic sculpture and deity. I do not know of what use I can be to them. I do know that they provide me with a degree of humility within an expanse of calm that I can gaze from when sitting next to one and looking out. It's a feeling achieved nowhere else. Time for my next visit.
