I didn’t think it would happen, but I’ve grown accustomed to living in a city. During most of my childhood I spent time outdoors so I assumed I was immune to urban charm. This turned out to be incorrect.

Cities are a force of nature, created by humans. They manufacture completely valid sounding reasons to postpone any trip away from civilization. If you really want to get away, it has to be like removing a bandaid: quickly, and without hesitation.

Upon moving to Los Angeles I heard stories about the ancient sequoias. A bit of research shows the trees live over 1,500 years on this earth. I made the pilgramage to Sequoia and took off into the trail.

Approaching the base of an old man to the side of the trail, I struck out, suddenly cocky.

“With all your time you chose to simply grow straight up?”

To my surprise, I found myself filled with a response.

“What are you planning to do with your 150 years that’s so great?”

Abashed, I sat in his shade and thought about this.

I confessed, “It’s actually much less than that.”