High as a kite

Christmas Eve 2006

I am sitting in a Red-Wood tree, miles in the sky, suspended in air. I live on ropes. I sleep on ropes. As I write this now I am sitting ontop of a giant dream catcher big enough for 2-3 people (though we cram 5) tied between two branches of an ancient red-wood tree 85 feet above ground. Brother Yoni is in the same tree as me right now 160 ft up. We have tree names. I refer to him as "Tarzan" and he calls me "Pancake". When the wind blows hard, the tarps start to flutter and Liebertall, the tree Im living with, steps onto the dance floor with all the other giants as they gently sway their tops back and forth. I double check my caribeener and rope but ultimately must surrender to the tree and the ropes that are holding me up.
A few days ago we pulled up to the edge of the forest in the Seabring convertible we rented in LA and drove up the Pacific coast Highway with the rooftop down. We entered the ancient forest under cover of night backpacks loaded with gear, rope, harness, devices, food, books and art supplies. We honkered down like donkeys with gallons of water clipped to our sides and hiked deep into the steep wet disputed mountainside. From one perspective we were illegally trespassing. I guess it all depends on who you think the judge is. We sat at the base of Liebertall with our guides "Shag", "Sunflower" and "Sparrow" for hours and discussed the movement, it's history, how its based in non-violence, and how to tie some really important knots.
(Ill write more soon)