There’s a fantastic grove of Jeffrey Pine just past Merced Lake that I’ve been visiting in the spring usually for nigh on 30 years. If it’s later in the year I’m coming from above have been on the trail awhile and really stink. I think these trees know me.
Wait, actually I don’t stink–I bathe daily–but my personal smell is pronounced.
There’s also a thick cluster of trees that have been re-occupying a burn area below that lake. I’ve watched them slowly grow higher over a similar period of time. Sometimes I’ve camped by them, again usually in the early spring. I think about all these trees often.