If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around, does it make a sound?

Good question, I thought all my life. Until I was in a forest, and a tree did fall.

Last August while on our last summer hurrah! in Washington state, we ventured out on a hike in Olympic National Forest. The tall spruce trees are breathtaking. Especially when thickly covered in moss, they look just like sculptures.

The thing about these tall, tall, spruce trees however, is that their roots are shallow. Thanks to all the rainfall and wetness of the pacific northwest, the roots don’t need to dig deep for moisture and survival.

I learned all this after we wrapped up our lovely hike and were hungry for some lunch. We got in our cars and drove a few yards, just to find a long line of haulted cars. A spruce tree had just fallen.

No, we did not hear it fall. So I guess that’s that.

The 5+ hours that it took to clear out the path, I was the one who freaked out the most in our family of 6. We didn’t have any snacks in the car. Which explains why we were headed out to lunch. There were no stores, or vending machines near (or far). I was scheming to walk up to one of the many Indian families also caught up in this unexpected situation, knowing all the well that Indian adults of a certain age do not travel without a healty quota of snacks. I would explain myself to them. Point to my 4 little children and ask if they could spare a bag of gandhiya or thepla.

I had to do no such thing however, because the kids – although hungry – were not stupid (like me). They could see the fallen tree and understand the situation. They decided that whining was not going to help. So they played; ran about with other kids; marveled at the process of moving a giant tree as it was unfolding in front of their eyes; made a rap song about a fallen tree; and killed time beautifully. I finished reading the book I had just started.

As if my intention to resort to begging was not low enough, I found some Hershey’s Kisses at the bottom of the diaper bag. They must be at least 4 years old. If not older. I have often joked that the only way I would ever eat a Hershey’s Kiss was if if I was dying of hungry and there was nothing else to eat.

Well. Jokes on me. Ha. Ha.

In the end, it all worked out, as it usually does with these things. I came away with a life lesson and a good story. I was happy to see the love and patience in my fellow humans also caught in this lovely chaos.  More importantly, I realized that my kids are going to be alright you know. They may need 70 reminders to put on their shoes before we leave the house, but when it comes to the important things in life, they’ve got it covered.