I see it all from my throne atop the canyon. Once, I was just a sapling. Animals would use my limbs as a scratching post and sometimes a litter box.

I chuckle at the tourists who marvel at the canyon. They should have seen it five hundred years ago, but that may be a bit of a white lie. I could not see it until I was twenty years old. Sitting here now as the tallest of my breed. I heard one author call me the grandmother of all ponderosa trees. How does he know I am a female tree? The nerve of some people.

I am over one hundred and fifty feet tall. I overheard one gentleman say. 

I wondered when I heard that I was the tallest thing in this entire place they call Earth. 

The same person who called me a female also said I was four to five hundred years old. Again, the nerve of some people. It's not nice to talk about age. 

Through the years, I have seen snow cover me entirely. Those were cold winters. 

It's hard to remember exactly when. That must be my age, showing that I can't remember how many seasons ago it happened. That year, the river down there raged and raged for months. 

You should have seen it. The water was, I don't know, and I am not good at the feet thing. It was over thirty feet above the normal bank. The rain that year forget it. I was water-logged for months.

I have seen all sorts of my forest friends come and go, including colorful birds and graceful deer.

It was not long ago I saw this huge animal. I had never seen one before. It was brown and furry and had big horns. I initially thought it was a cow, but this was much bigger. Did you think I was a stupid tree and didn't know what a cow was? Jeez, some humans.

I overheard a forest ranger call it a buffalo, so I took his word for it.

Speaking of those forest rangers, they are some good friends of trees and my forest friends. They watch out for our health and the evil fires. 

Many times, I have seen the evil fires rage across the canyon walls and floor. During those times, I mourned and dropped pinecones like crazy.

That is how us trees continue to grow, you know, by dropping seeds and cones.

Crack. There goes another limb falling to the ground. That one got a good distance; it rolled halfway down the canyon. 

I must be getting old. I am losing more limbs these days. I hope they don't cut me down and use me to make park benches. I don't want someone sitting on me, not to mention the view.

Here comes a breeze. I love the sound I make when the wind blows through me. I have heard many souls walk by me and make the same comment.

Sometimes, they stay nearby and, as they call it, camp. I see them go into their shelter and sleep. I wonder what it feels like to sleep.

I hope all of you remember this and what it is like to be a tree. Don't pound us with nails. It hurts. If you need a branch, please take one that is wilting. It's going to fall off soon anyways.

I enjoy shading you as you walk and camp. Sometimes, you sit at my base and eat your food.

Oh, look there. A scrub jay landed on one of my limbs. They have a beautiful song. Speaking of birds, I bet you have never seen the biggest bird of all: the California Condor. They even cast a shadow on me. As big as I am, they won't land on me. My branches are too small.

There are so many furry friends; some are not friendly to each other. The coyotes hunt those poor rabbits and squirrels.

I give those guys protection. Squirrels climb me, and rabbits hide in holes my roots have made.

Next time you are in my neighborhood, please say hello to me and my kind. Be kind to us. Think of all the things we provide for you. The enormous request we all have is to please keep the fire away from us. A tree is a terrible thing to waste.