Oak land had a World Wonder!
Oakland is beautiful. The Land. A bay with little islands in it. Marshy flats flow into awesome hills where giant trees live.
Before the Europeans arrived, there were many rich cultures around the bay. Now, they are collectively known by their language group, the Ohlone. Here there was an abundance of acorns, and shell fish could be plucked from the shallow bay all year long. One thing that is clear--for thousands of years these cultures lived here, and for thousands of years they watched in awe as the redwoods grew taller and taller.
These magnificent trees that crown the hills of Oakland are a masterpiece of nature. It was 1855 when William Gibbons, a naturalist, visited. He wrote that the Redwoods ranged between 12 and 20 feet in diameter, and he was awestruck by the largest tree he measured at 32 feet in diameter. Guessing their height William Gibbons gave at least three hundred feet.*
This redwood grove was a World Wonder!
But they were all stumps that he was walking upon. Every single ancient redwood tree had been cut down and fed to the mills.
Fortunately, the loggers did not return to the Oakland hills. Rings of new growth sprung from the living stumps of those ancients trees, and because of heroes in Oakland's history, the redwoods are protected now. They tower over the hills and valleys of Oakland, a land as diverse as the people who inhabit it. Perhaps one day, these awe inspiring trees will grow into a World Wonder once again.
The plains below were ruled by Godzilla sized oaks, centuries old, spreading their knobby branches to claim areas the size of city blocks. And humans have been here for a long long time.
Around Eleven thousand years ago, the world changed. Oceans rose and water spilled through the river canyon, the gate made golden by the setting sun. Water filled the valley, and the Great Bay was formed. Canoes appeared upon its shallow waters. Travel, trade, family, gathering shellfish, abundant in the clear, shallow waters.
The land is vibrant and healthy where we urge it to flourish. Today. We are at the swinging point in our history where our society can give back to Earth as a global community. As a family, humanity can evolve into a symbiotic relationship with our planet.
European culture swept over the native people here more rapidly and without regard than anyone could have prepared for. They didn't know the songs that would heal the strange diseases, and so many voices and stories were lost.
To so many people our connection to Earth is a mythical thing. This is only a moment in time, and now, our knowledge and our communication has gone global. We see each other and humanity is surging and speaking the world over. Loudest in our hearts is a knowledge that we can be better. We can give back to Earth.
The caterpillar becomes the butterfly.
The Age of Information has dawned.
While I write this, our world is in the chrysalis. Our body is liquefying as the old structures built on best guesses and lies come crumbling down. Be courageous! Rejoice for our new body will form. We will crawl out and unfurl our wings, and we will bravely fly.
* (Gibbons, “The Redwood in the Oakland Hills, 1893 manuscript, Oakland Public Library, Oakland History Room)
Before the Europeans arrived, there were many rich cultures around the bay. Now, they are collectively known by their language group, the Ohlone. Here there was an abundance of acorns, and shell fish could be plucked from the shallow bay all year long. One thing that is clear--for thousands of years these cultures lived here, and for thousands of years they watched in awe as the redwoods grew taller and taller.
These magnificent trees that crown the hills of Oakland are a masterpiece of nature. It was 1855 when William Gibbons, a naturalist, visited. He wrote that the Redwoods ranged between 12 and 20 feet in diameter, and he was awestruck by the largest tree he measured at 32 feet in diameter. Guessing their height William Gibbons gave at least three hundred feet.*
This redwood grove was a World Wonder!
But they were all stumps that he was walking upon. Every single ancient redwood tree had been cut down and fed to the mills.
Fortunately, the loggers did not return to the Oakland hills. Rings of new growth sprung from the living stumps of those ancients trees, and because of heroes in Oakland's history, the redwoods are protected now. They tower over the hills and valleys of Oakland, a land as diverse as the people who inhabit it. Perhaps one day, these awe inspiring trees will grow into a World Wonder once again.
The plains below were ruled by Godzilla sized oaks, centuries old, spreading their knobby branches to claim areas the size of city blocks. And humans have been here for a long long time.
Around Eleven thousand years ago, the world changed. Oceans rose and water spilled through the river canyon, the gate made golden by the setting sun. Water filled the valley, and the Great Bay was formed. Canoes appeared upon its shallow waters. Travel, trade, family, gathering shellfish, abundant in the clear, shallow waters.
The land is vibrant and healthy where we urge it to flourish. Today. We are at the swinging point in our history where our society can give back to Earth as a global community. As a family, humanity can evolve into a symbiotic relationship with our planet.
European culture swept over the native people here more rapidly and without regard than anyone could have prepared for. They didn't know the songs that would heal the strange diseases, and so many voices and stories were lost.
To so many people our connection to Earth is a mythical thing. This is only a moment in time, and now, our knowledge and our communication has gone global. We see each other and humanity is surging and speaking the world over. Loudest in our hearts is a knowledge that we can be better. We can give back to Earth.
The caterpillar becomes the butterfly.
The Age of Information has dawned.
While I write this, our world is in the chrysalis. Our body is liquefying as the old structures built on best guesses and lies come crumbling down. Be courageous! Rejoice for our new body will form. We will crawl out and unfurl our wings, and we will bravely fly.
* (Gibbons, “The Redwood in the Oakland Hills, 1893 manuscript, Oakland Public Library, Oakland History Room)