Part of the magic of visiting Santa Cruz is being nestled so close to the redwoods. Given how much our baby loves trees, we couldn’t wait to bring Eliza to Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park to see redwoods. We pictured her wide-eyed, neck craned, blown away by the giant trees towering above her.
The reality? She was way more interested in the forest floor.
Clovers? Yes. A patch of foliage? Compelling. The 300-foot-tall ancient beings stretching toward the sky? Eh. But a trunk at eye level? Now we’re talking.
Plot twist! On the way home, Eliza was fussing and crying as we emerged from the forest onto the city highway. She was unhappy there weren’t trees for her to peer out the window at. Thankfully, we were able to take the 280 home with some greenery (IYKYK) and kept her preoccupied enough to fall asleep.
The Walk Itself
The park was unbelievably peaceful. We meandered through the redwood grove loop waiting for our baby to wake up from her nap. We even made it to the river before turning back.
Eventually she did wake up, and I nursed her under some of the most massive trees ever. I enjoyed the quiet escape with the occasional birds chirping and squirrels hopping around. One of those moments you tuck away.
Brittanyisms of the Tour
Two for the books on this one:
- I made us sit in the car for a full thirty minutes so Eliza would stay asleep before we started the hike — even though Justin had already proven he could transfer her from the stroller to the car just twenty minutes prior. Turns out, he’s a pro and could also transfer her into the carrier without waking her. You live and you learn.
- I noticed someone skipped an open bathroom stall and quietly judged them for being weird about it. I waltzed right in, thinking I was lucky not to wait. Then I noticed the door handle was on the ground. No problem, I thought, I’ll just use the lock to get out. Welp — my plan failed. Not to worry: I just had to grab the door handle from the ground and Jerry-rig it back into place to let myself out. But for a moment, I thought I might actually be locked in the bathroom. Backup plan was loud, undignified knocking until a stranger (or Justin) rescued me.
Lesson learned: when someone won’t go into an open stall, there is usually a reason.
The Takeaway
Redwoods never disappoint, even to a child who is more interested in looking down than up. No matter where Eliza is looking, I’ll always enjoy seeing the world anew through her eyes. Plus, we will definitely be back, and she will look up eventually. The trees aren’t going anywhere. I mean — trees don’t move, right? (skier joke)
