 |
| That's me at 11,000 feet in the White Mountains |
High in the White Mountains of California, above 10,000 feet, grow the oldest living trees on earth. Many of the ancient Bristlecone Pines here have lived more than 40 centuries. The Bristlecone Pines in this forest started as seedlings when the pyramids of Egypt were being built. They only grow in six states of the Western USA, and the oldest of them are in the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest of the White Mountains of California, where this shot was taken of me when I visited.
These Bristlecone Pines thrive in the harshest of conditions in the highest altitudes, between 10,000 and 11,000 feet. These trees live longer than any other living tree in the world. Some of the downed wood, like what you see in this shot I took in the White Mountains of California, date back to the last ice age. The average age of these trees is 1,000 years old. But there are a few still living that have been around for over 4,000 years.
This is the Patriarch Grove, which is named after the oldest living tree that resides unmarked in this area. The "Methuselah" tree is somewhere in this grove at the White Mountains, and is over 4,767 years old. It is not marked due to fears of vandalism. The Methuselah Tree is the oldest living organism that is known and documented, with an estimated germination of 2832 BC.
They don't tell you exactly where it is when you visit these trees in the White Mountains. It's identity is a closely-guarded secret.
More here
I recorded a song about the Bristlecones written by Hugh Prestwood. Below is this live recording of my singing of "Bristlecone Pine" (from 1/1/2001).
This is my only duet with a Raven!
I was in a favorite spot at a music camp in the redwood forest of the Coast Range near Big Basin State Park. The park is a densely wooded area in the Santa Cruz Mountains. It was clear and crisp, and the sun was shining brightly in the cool winter skies. I was singing, accompanied by my guitar, for some friends seated outside under the Coast Redwoods and the Knobcone Pine trees.
While I sang, a large jet-black Raven perched in a pine tree nearby and sang along with me. As I finished my song, he called out to me with a loud caw-cawing, growing louder as the song came to an end. For the rest of the day, my raven friend followed me from cabin to cabin, listening for my singing and joining in again and again with his unique raven harmony.
I felt it was a sign, but did not know of what. Recorded at the San Francisco Folk Music Club Camp Harmony.
Bristlecone Pine
