Lightning has been starting forest fires since the planet was relatively young, and the forests have survived quite well in spite of it, and quite probably because of it. Some fires are caused by careless campers or some brainless yo-yo pegging a cigarette out a car window. When the season is on, forest fires do happen around here, more than enough to keep firefighters hopping. And some, like the recent one near Leavenworth, Washington got some residences and threatened the town. But I don't seem to recall much having to do with the area around the Olympic rain forest. "Rain forest" is not just a poetic allusion. You can walk through the trees on a warm, sunny day and not necessarily be too aware of it, but it's pretty moist around there. Kinda muggy. There is a lot of undergrowth and general organic debris on the forest floor (sometimes you're not too sure where the forest floor is), but that doesn't seem to bother the rain forest. It's such a rich ecosystem that it manages very nicely to recycle its own, thank you. It's been doing it for many thousands of years. The only enemy it really has is Man. And unless we manage to obliterate it (which is within our power), it will be here long after we're gone.

On one occasion I sat within a few feet of one of these giants in the Hoh rain forest—five-hundred some feet tall, trunk about twelve feet or so in diameter. I have no idea how old it was, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was old when Columbus was a pup. I had been there by that same tree before, and I almost felt like it was an old friend. A very old friend. After sitting there for awhile, I couldn't help but feel that there was a presence there. It was an odd feeling of—what can I call it?—awareness, but a sort of benevolent indifference. It was as if the tree knew I was there and it knew I meant it no harm, but to it, I was hardly less ephemeral than the insects that crawled on its bark, the squirrels that rummaged around it for edibles, or the birds that perched on its branches. In the presence of such an Old Soul, you can get a real feeling of the Eternal. I couldn't help but feel—protective. It's been there so long. And it deserves to be respected and left undisturbed, to go through it's own natural life cycle.

I guess that makes me a bonafide, ordained tree hugger. But I can't help but feel that someone who looks at a tree like that and thinks only in terms of how many board-feet he can get out of it has a great big hole where his soul ought to be.

Don Firth