At a first glance, to see Wawona tree after all those years was seeing how world has changed.
I was five when my father took me to Wawona. There was a huge tree with a road down under. I remember my father standing by my side, drinking from his pocket bottle he carried through the Prohibition years, his grave voice asking "Isn't it incredible, son?". I already knew I'd never see my mother again. And a tear fell on my cheek.
Today, my grandson by my side, I saw the tree fallen by the side of the road. But then, I saw the same hotel, the same streets, the same forest. I had no longer my father, long dead. I hate no longer him. I forgave my mother absence. But, even without the tree, the world remains the same.
To see Wawona after all those years was like travelling through time. And realizing the only thing that changed was me.
