We are often told that the world is going from bad to worse, sacrificing everything to mammon. But this righteous uprising in defense of God’s trees in the midst of exciting politics and wars is telling a different story, and every Sequoia, I fancy, has heard the good news and is waving its branches for joy. The wrongs done to trees, wrongs of every sort, are done in the darkness of ignorance and unbelief, for when light comes the heart of the people is always right. Forty-seven years ago one of these Calaveras King Sequoias was laboriously cut down, that the stump might be had for a dancing-floor. Another, one of the finest in the grove, more than three hundred feet high, was skinned alive to a height of one hundred and sixteen feet from the ground and the bark sent to London to show how fine and big that Calaveras tree was—as sensible a scheme as skinning our great men would be to prove their greatness. This grand tree is of course dead, a ghastly disfigured ruin, but it still stands erect and holds forth its majestic arms as if alive and saying, “Forgive them; they know not what they do.” Now some millmen want to cut all the Calaveras trees into lumber and money. But we have found a better use for them. No doubt these trees would make good lumber after passing through a sawmill, as George Washington after passing through the hands of a French cook would have made good food. But both for Washington and the tree that bears his name higher uses have been found.
Could one of these Sequoia Kings come to town in all its godlike majesty so as to be strikingly seen and allowed to plead its own cause, there would never again be any lack of defenders. And the same may be said of all the other Sequoia groves and forests of the Sierra with their companions and the noble Sequoia sempervirens, or redwood, of the coast mountains.
In a general view we find that the Sequoia gigantea, or Big Tree, is distributed in a widely interrupted belt along the west flank of the Sierra, from a small grove on the middle fork of the American River to the head of Deer Creek, a distance of about two hundred and sixty miles, at an elevation of about five thousand to a little over eight thousand feet above the sea. From the American River grove to the forest on Kings River the species occurs only in comparatively small isolated patches or groves so sparsely distributed along the belt that three of the gaps in it are from forty to sixty miles wide. From Kings River southward the Sequoia is not restricted to mere groves, but extends across the broad rugged basins of the Kaweah and Tule rivers in majestic forests a distance of nearly seventy miles, the continuity of this portion of the belt being but slightly broken save by the deep cañons.
In these noble groves and forests to the southward of the Calaveras Grove the axe and saw have long been busy, and thousands of the finest Sequoias have been felled, blasted into manageable dimensions, and sawed into lumber by methods destructive almost beyond belief, while fires have spread still wider and more lamentable ruin. In the course of my explorations twenty-five years ago, I found five sawmills located on or near the lower margin of the Sequoia belt, all of which were cutting more or less Big Tree lumber, which looks like the redwood of the coast, and was sold as redwood. One of the smallest of these mills in the season of 1874 sawed two million feet of Sequoia lumber. Since that time other mills have been built among the Sequoias, notably the large ones on Kings River and the head of the Fresno. The destruction of these grand trees is still going on.
On the other hand, the Calaveras Grove for forty years has been faithfully protected by Mr. Sperry, and with the exception of the two trees mentioned above is still in primeval beauty. The Tuolumne and Merced groves near Yosemite, the Dinky Creek grove, those of the General Grant National Park and the Sequoia National Park, with several outstanding groves that are nameless on the Kings, Kaweah, and Tule river basins, and included in the Sierra forest reservation, have of late years been partially protected by the Federal Government; while the well-known Mariposa Grove has long been guarded by the State.
For the thousands of acres of Sequoia forest outside of the reservation and national parks, and in the hands of lumbermen, no help is in sight. Probably more than three times as many Sequoias as are contained in the whole Calaveras Grove have been cut into lumber every year for the last twenty-six years without let or hindrance, and with scarce a word of protest on the part of the public, while at the first whisper of the bonding of the Calaveras Grove to lumbermen most everybody rose in alarm. This righteous and lively indignation on the part of Californians after the long period of deathlike apathy, in which they have witnessed the destruction of other groves unmoved, seems strange until the rapid growth that right public opinion has made during the last few years is considered and the peculiar interest that attaches to the Calaveras giants. They were the first discovered and are best known. Thousands of travelers from every country have come to pay them tribute of admiration and praise, their reputation is world-wide, and the names of great men have long been associated with them—Washington, Humboldt, Torrey and Gray, Sir Joseph Hooker, and others. These kings of the forest, the noblest of a noble race, rightly belong to the world, but as they are in California we cannot escape responsibility as their guardians. Fortunately the American people are equal to this trust, or any other that may arise, as soon as they see it and understand it.
Any fool can destroy trees. They cannot defend themselves or run away. And few destroyers of trees ever plant any; nor can planting avail much toward restoring our grand aboriginal giants. It took more than three thousand years to make some of the oldest of the Sequoias, trees that are still standing in perfect strength and beauty, waving and singing in the mighty forests of the Sierra. Through all the eventful centuries since Christ’s time, and long before that, God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand storms; but he cannot save them from sawmills and fools; this is left to the American people. The news from Washington is encouraging. On March third [1905?] the House passed a bill providing for the Government acquisition of the Calaveras giants. The danger these Sequoias have been in will do good far beyond the boundaries of the Calaveras Grove, in saving other groves and forests, and quickening interest in forest affairs in general. While the iron of public sentiment is hot let us strike hard. In particular, a reservation or national park of the only other species of Sequoia, the sempervirens, or redwood, hardly less wonderful than the gigantea, should be quickly secured. It will have to be acquired by gift or purchase, for the Government has sold every section of the entire redwood belt from the Oregon boundary to below Santa Cruz.
From A Thousand-Mile Walk to the Gulf, chapter 6 (1916).
The world, we are told, was made especially for man – a presumption not supported by all the facts. A numerous class of men are painfully astonished whenever they find anything, living or dead, in all God’s universe, which they cannot eat or render in some way what they call useful to themselves. They have precise dogmatic insight into the intentions of the Creator, and it is hardly possible to be guilty of irreverence in speaking of their God any more than of heathen idols. He is regarded as a civilized, law-abiding gentlemen in favor either of a republican form of government or of a limited monarchy; believes in the literature and language of England; is a warm supporter of the English constitution and Sunday schools and missionary societies; and is as purely a manufactured article as any puppet at a half- penny theater.
With such views of the Creator it is, of course, not surprising that erroneous views should be entertained of the creation. To such properly trimmed people, the sheep, for example, is an easy problem – food and clothing “for us,” eating grass and daisies white by divine appointment for this predestined purpose, on perceiving the demand for wool that would be occasioned by the eating of the apple in the Garden of Eden.
In the same pleasant plan, whales are storehouses of oil for us, to help out the stars in lighting our dark ways until the discovery of the Pennsylvania oil wells. Among plants, hemp, to say nothing of the cereals, is a case of evident destination for ships’ rigging, wrapping packages, and hanging the wicked. Cotton is another plain case of clothing. Iron was made for hammers and ploughs, and lead for bullets; all intended for us. And so of other small handfuls of insignificant things.
But if we should ask these profound expositors of God’s intentions, How about those man-eating animals – lions, tigers, alligators – which smack their lips over raw man? Or about those myriads of noxious insects that destroy labor and drink his blood? Doubtless man was intended for food and drink for all these? Oh no! Not at all! These are unresolvable difficulties connected with Eden’s apple and the Devil. Why does water drown its lord? Why do so many minerals poison him? Why are so many plants and fishes deadly enemies? Why is the lord of creation subjected to the same laws of life as his subjects? Oh, all these things are satanic, or in some way connected with the first garden.
Now, it never seems to occur to these far- seeing teachers that Nature’s object in making animals and plants might possibly be first of all the happiness of each one of them, not the creation of all for the happiness of one. Why should man value himself as more than a small part of the one great unit of creation? And what creature of all that the Lord has taken the pains to make is not essential to the completeness of that unit – the cosmos? The universe would be incomplete without man; but it would also be incomplete without the smallest transmicroscopic creature that dwells beyond our conceitful eyes and knowledge.
From the dust of the earth, from the common elementary fund, the Creator has made Homo sapiens. From the same material he has made every other creature, however noxious and insignificant to us. They are earth-born companions and our fellow mortals. The fearfully good, the orthodox, of this laborious patch-work of modern civilization cry “Heresy” on every one whose sympathies reach a single hair’s breadth beyond the boundary epidermis of our own species. Not content with taking all of earth, they also claim the celestial country as the only ones who possess the kind of souls for which that imponderable empire was planned.
This star, our own good earth, made many a successful journey around the heavens ere man was made, and whole kingdoms of creatures enjoyed existence and returned to dust ere man appeared to claim them. After human beings have also played their part in Creation’s plan, they too may disappear without any general burning or extraordinary commotion whatever.
Plants are credited with but dim and uncertain sensation, and minerals with positively none at all. But why may not even a mineral arrangement of matter be endowed with sensation of a kind that we in our blind exclusive perfection can have no manner of communication with?
But I have wandered from my subject. I stated a page or two back that man claimed the earth was made for him and I was going to say that venomous beasts, thorny plants, and deadly diseases of certain parts of the earth prove that the whole world was not made for him. When an animal from a tropical climate is taken to high latitudes, it may perish of cold, and we say that such an animal was never intended for so severe a climate. But when man betakes himself to sickly parts of the tropics and perishes, he cannot see that he was never intended for such deadly climates. No, he will rather accuse the first mother of the cause of the difficulty, though she may never have seen a fever district; or will consider it a providential chastisement for some self-invented form of sin.
Furthermore, all uneatable and uncivilized animals, and all plants which carry prickles, are deplorable evils which, according to closes researches of clergy, require the cleansing chemistry of universal planetary combustion. But more than aught else mankind requires burning, as being in great part wicked, and if that trans mundane furnace can be so applied and regulated as to smelt and purify us into conformity with the rest of the terrestrial creation, then the tophetization of the erratic genius Homo were a consummation devoutly to be prayed for. But, glad to leave these ecclesiastical fires and blunders, I joyfully return to the immortal truth and immortal beauty of Nature.
UPDATE: It’s been a week in to February and I still have no accounting from Artist Rising for my royalties on art.com, allposters.com and artistrising.com
The most unprofessional thing I have seen in a long item.
Here are two e-mail I got from them about the missing royalty report issue;
Dear Ginette,
Thank you for contacting ArtistRising.com.
Thank you for your e-mail. Your issue has been forwarded to a senior staff member, which may take up to several days, depending on the complexity of your issue as well as the availability of the senior staff. We appreciate your patience and understanding. Thank you for being a part of Artist Rising, and enjoy your day.
After my initial inquest and that response I wrote this e-mail:
Accounting Department,
Can I please get a statement of my sales for the month of January. Most of my sales derive from art.com.
I need the statement for record keeping.
If the electronic online is not available can you please mail on.
I would think you accounting department must keep track for tax and business purposes.
Ginette Callaway
they wrote back this:
Hi Ginette,
Thank you for contacting ArtistRising.com.
I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience this may have caused you.
We recently performed a systems upgrade, and we are unable to display the sales reports on the Artist Rising website. Regardless, your sales are being tracked and recorded accurately in our databases, and they should appear again on the site soon.
I once again apologize for the inconvenience this may have caused you and your patience and understanding is highly appreciated in this matter. If there is any other concern, please feel free to contact us any time and we will be more than happy to assist you.
Do you purchase my prints on art.com or allposters?
If your answer is yes please send me an email notifying me of any purchase you made in the month of January 2010 and thereafter, of poster prints from art.com, allposters.com or artist rising, of my prints only Works by Ginette Callaway or The New Monet.
Here is the reason:
There is an ongoing problem where sales records that have been provided online to artist are suddenly not being provided anymore. This has been going on since the start of 2010.
Myself and other artist that have tried to get a straight answer have been given ambiguous answers and no clear answer to if and when we will be able to track our sales again. Sales records are important since our commission is calculated based on those sales plus we need them for tax reasons. If we don’t know what and how much we are selling, we can easily be cheated out of honest earned royalties. After all art.com, artist rising and all posters sell our prints and we earn already only 15% on these sales and zero on frames that may be added to our art.
As of right now I am very concerned since there is no transparency and poor communications and no phone number to call to inquire and of course absolutely no way for us to know what we are selling. I know that my averages are very good, in the thousands of dollars in sales for art.com in the hundred of commission for me per month.
Again if you have bough any prints of artwork by Ginette Callaway or The New Monet PLEASE CONTACT ME ASAP.
All I would need to know is what you have bought, dollar amount just of the print minus any frame and an order number, last name would be great but I do not need an address.
If you want to purchase prints I would encourage you to visit my
Most everything of mine on art.com, allposters.com and Artist Rising is also available on Imagekind. They are ab it more expensive, but the print quality is superior.
A wonderful collector from Mississippi has bought this painting.
I am so excited. I am shipping it out today. It’s rolled and she’ll have it re-streched.
She send me this link to some awesome Turtle photos and videos.
This morning I was fortunate enough to witness a once-in-a-lifetime event: a loggerhead nest “eruption”! WOW! I am still in shock, but will make an attempt to describe what happened.
This morning was one of those mornings where you doubt your volunteer spirit. Kiawah is in the midst of the edges of Tropical Storm Henri. Sheets of rain were coming down, and I wondered if I should even bother getting up to go on turtle patrol. After all, it is not like the baby turtle tracks would be visible in all this rain! But I was already up, so I thought “Why not?” and headed to the beach.
So there I was, in the pouring rain, walking along checking the turtle nests. I was about halfway finished checking my zone, when I spotted a lone baby turtle making its way to the water. I was thrilled to see it, and walked closer to watch. Soon I saw another baby, then a third! “How cool!”, I thought. “I get to see baby turtles this morning.” I started heading up towards the #189 nest marker, to make sure I knew which nest the babies were coming from.
And that is when I saw the nest hatch – right while I was standing there! I counted 48 baby loggerheads clambering out of the nest. They were in a giant jumble of baby parts – flippers, heads, and shells – all in a heap. They were scrambling all over the place!
When telling folks about loggerheads, I have often tried to describe the “sand elevator” that the babies use to ride their way up to the top, then out of, the nest. But seeing it in action really made it gel for me. It was truly something – the babies were all squirming and on top of one another. At times one would move just the right way (or the wrong way?) and one of the others would flip over on its back, only to right itself and continue making its way out of the nest.
The babies quickly scaled the dune and wriggled their way through the vegetation and onto the beach. Then I watched in awe as one by one they made their way to the sea. As they swam off into the waves, I spotted them coming up for air occasionally. One would surface briefly, take a breath of air, then swim like mad against the current. I thought about the twenty-four hour swim that faced them – a struggle with predators, waves, and today, the rain. But soon they will be “safe” in the sargassum off our coast. There they will stay while they grow up a bit, and continue their journey.
I sit here typing this with tears in my eyes. I still cannot believe how fortunate I was this morning. What a fabulous reward for getting up early and doing turtle patrol!
Brand new oil painting now available on in my ETSY Store
Run Of The Baby Loggerheads
Impressionist Oil Painting
Size : 60 x 40 x 1.75 inches
Artist: Ginette Callaway
“This painting was inspired by my many trips to Jekyll Island Georgia.”
“From May through August, under cover of darkness, a silent drama is played out on Jekyll Island’s beach. Female loggerhead sea turtles (Caretta-caretta) swim ashore, make their way across the sand, dig their nests and lay their eggs. Designated a threatened species by state and federal law, loggerhead sea turtles have found safe haven on Jekyll Island. Their nests, tucked among the dunes of Jekyll Island’s clean, white beach, have made the island a major site for conservation and education.” http://www.jekyllisland.com/activities/seaturtles.asp
A short fast speed summery of me painting Run of the Loggerheads.
Horses, the American Mustang, a symbol of spirit and freedom.
Today these magnificent beings face an uncertain future.
Men has no need for them anymore and many men seem to believe, that if men has no use for it, it then must go. How sad, how terrible, how unenlightened.
I remember watching the movie “Misfit” with Marilyn Monroe, when I was very young. (Excerpt from Movie Comment section: This is a movie about a woman in Reno, Nevada (where else?) who is there to get a divorce. On a whim (she makes up her mind fast!) she drives out to the desert on the day of her divorce with a washed out aging cowboy (Clark Gable) and his buddy (Eli Wallach) as well as her friend (Thelma Ritter). This begins a wistful adventure and sometimes sad relationship for her with the cowboy and his misfit friends (including Montgomery Clift). They grapple with life’s issues from divorce, friendship, greed and even cruelty until finally, everyone’s character and philosophy of life is laid bare in a showdown over 6 wild horses.)
This movie left a deep and lasting impression in my heart. I somehow sensed that these beautiful Horses that love freedom so much, that fight with all their might to remain free are somehow linked my me in some way that I do not understand. In many ways I have been a Misfit all my life not fitting in all together. In the movie, the sadness of the characters and their pathetic life’s are a reflection of society and the endless pursuit of happiness that leaves so many empty, still. The wild mustangs fight for their freedom opens up all the misery at the end. It is utterly gut wrenching to see Marilyn in the character of Roslyn throw herself between the men and the horses.
In today’s world they the Horses, The Wild Mustangs are indeed Misfits, misunderstood, under appreciated or even not appreciated at all, belittled and nullified, declared useless and many called them a nuisance. What a sin against God to say God created something that is useless or a nuisance, what a sin against God!
We humans, what do we really know and understand about them … NOTHING. Do we know what they know, or think? No, we don’t. Our heads are filled with knowledge but our hearts are ignorant.
By simply observing with our eyes and our hearts we should know, that they love their life as much as we do love our, they love to be free as we do, and they can take care of themselves pretty well if left alone, unfortunately as many of us have forgotten how to do.
What a gift they are, and yet we don’t see it, we throw these gift aside after they lost their purpose to us, like a broken toaster, or a broken doll.
But they are not toasters, not dolls, they are of flesh and blood, the same God that created all life creates them, they are full of spirit. THEY ARE IN this world and they are a blessing from God!!!
We tend to our automobiles as if they were irreplaceable; we care for materials things and neglect the truly irreplaceable. I cannot think of a world without them and I am tortured every day by the knowledge that we make them suffer horribly, even eat them, that we find it acceptable to use them for anything to make a buck.
My heart has sunken so deep over this. Almost every day I cry! I understand them. Their eyes when they look at me talk silently to me. They say “We know you are one of many who understand, but there are millions that don’t!” Their eyes say: “We are afraid!” Life to us without freedom is not life at all!” Their eyes say: “What have we done to fall from the good graces of humans? What have we done!” “Have we not served you and carried you?”
“Have we not earned our place on this earth and in history?” “Why are you so cruel to us?” I can only look back in to their eyes, lower my head and be ashamed for humanity!
"The first peace, which is the most important, is that which comes within the souls of people when they realize their relationship, their oneness with the universe and all its powers, and when they realize that at the center of the universe dwells the Great Spirit, and that this center is really everywhere, it is within each of us."
Black Elk
Designers That do NOT use real fur
Find Designers that do NOT use real Animal fur. Animals for fur are often skinned while still alive. Often so the fur won’t get stained by blood or damaged in any way by trauma. Popular fur is from St Bernard Dogs, any dog with pretty fur is skinned in
0
Natinal Park Service
The “Father of the National Park Service” John Muir was many things, inventor, immigrant, botanist, glaciologist, writer, co-founder of the Sierra Club, fruit rancher. But it was John Muir’s love of nature, and the preservation of it, that we can thank hi
0
Natinal Park Service
The “Father of the National Park Service” John Muir was many things, inventor, immigrant, botanist, glaciologist, writer, co-founder of the Sierra Club, fruit rancher. But it was John Muir’s love of nature, and the preservation of it, that we can thank hi
0
Oil Painting by Ginette Callaway
Recent Comments