Juna Shares the Rootsong — Under the tallest redwood on the creek trail, Juna tapped two pebbles together—click-click, clack!—trying to make a rhythm big enough for every hiker to hear. Read the full story →
Under the tallest redwood on the creek trail, Juna tapped two pebbles together—click-click, clack!—trying to make a rhythm big enough for every hiker to hear. The air smelled like wet bark and fern dust, and the creek hurried beside her with silver shivers. Juna skipped from root to root, adding toe-taps, palm-pats, and one grand stomp that made a beetle pause on a stone.
The rhythm grew as the trail curved. Ferns brushed her knees with feathery fingers. Far above, branches creaked like ship masts, and the straight trunks around her seemed to lean in, listening. “One more sound,” Juna whispered, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. Near the redwood’s feet lay a fallen log, quiet as a sleeping canoe.
When Juna knocked on it, the log answered: boom-hum-BOOM! From inside came a tumble of tiny seed pods, each one rattling a different note. The creek picked up the tune, the ferns shook along, and Juna called the hikers over to borrow a pod and join the root-song. If you follow the creek past the ferns and find that fallen log, can you hear the click-click, clack under the tallest redwood?
