Muir Woods I
Driving just a short distance north of San Francisco, I felt the shift from city to serene wilderness. Muir Woods had long been on my list, and today I finally had the chance to explore its towering redwoods. Named after naturalist John Muir, who fought to preserve these ancient giants, the park was established in 1908, a sanctuary of old-growth redwoods that have stood here for centuries.
As I ventured into the forest, I marveled at the coast redwoods—tall, straight, and impossibly old. Some trees here are over 1,000 years old, their trunks thick and their bark rough to the touch. The air was cool and heavy with the scent of moss and damp earth. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, casting soft, flickering patterns on the forest floor. Coastal redwoods soared above, joined by Douglas firs and maples, their trunks thick and bark weathered. A lush carpet of ferns and tiny wildflowers hugged the ground, creating a soft, green underlay that felt like stepping into another world.
Moving further into the forest, the faint gurgle of Redwood Creek caught my attention, a gentle stream winding its way through the grove. The water flowed over smooth rocks, reflecting glimpses of sunlight in a dance that was both peaceful and mesmerizing. Birdsong echoed softly, and every step brought the crunch of the rocky path and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot.
I found a quiet spot along the creek and set up my camera, hoping to capture the timeless beauty of this place. The tripod sank slightly into the spongy ground, and I adjusted my lens to frame the scene. The tranquil forest stream flowed through lush greenery, with moss-covered rocks scattered in the water. Sunlight softly filtered through the dense canopy above, creating a serene, vibrant atmosphere.
Muir Woods, with its ancient trees and winding streams, had offered a glimpse into a quieter, wilder past. It had also given me a new focus. This was the image that began my appreciation of woodland photography.