From the Archives: The Redwoods
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!” - Hunter S. Thompson.
In the summer of 2011, I was welcomed to California with all the madness, enthusiasm, adventure and wonder that any explorer, or 22 year old, could possibly ask for. The nights spent in the Redwoods, dancing in front of a blazing fire, drinking Arizona Tea, and speaking about mythical creatures that haunt children's dreams, are some of the warmest memories I yearn to hold on to.
These stories are not for the faint of heart, or intended for mothers and grandmothers. They are, however, comforting strands of consciousness, held in the foremost part of my mind, ready to be told to unsuspecting acquaintances. Never fear, for one day, when I meet you dear reader, my stories will depart from my mouth just as easily, and unpredictably, as water falls from the sky.
