The tall canopy of hemlock and spruce towered a hundred feet or more above our heads. Hundreds of years had passed since the land in the South Arm of Kelp Bay was buried in ice. The deep-freeze removed, windblown seeds found their way to tiny clumps of mosses anchoring the beginnings of soil. Then the trees came. Alder and spruce grew. Darkness existed beneath their embracing arms and hemlock found its home. Their proximity to one another hid the sun for fifty or a hundred years. And then the wind blew. If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one there, does it still make a sound? All the plants heard, for the sound was accompanied by an explosion of light. Seeds waiting their opportunity to flourish arose. A slice of the forest opened itself and became green once again. More time elapsed. Here and there death came to the canopy and life prospered on the forest floor. Today we saw the diversity of an old growth forest.
Like great platters waiting to be filled, the giant leaves of devil's club open themselves to receive solar energy. No one shadows the other for each plays a vital role in the synthesis of food for the whole. Primary producers, plants pass their products to the animal world. But the time must be right for their genes must not die. Don't taste this plant now! Danger exists! Stems and leaves bear nasty spines. The leaves won't be grazed and we avoid their touch. But a month from now the bear whose trail we followed might relish its bright red berries produced and carry the seeds to another receptive place.
