We look at the mighty redwoods and we get all awestruck and we think majestically about wow, looky there. That’s a really big tree. And straight. At least I do, that is, I used to, before I realized how stupid redwoods are.
Let’s say you were a member of a species, and you basically ruled your world. Anywhere you went, you were the bad-ass. You controlled the resources, and no other species posed a threat to your species.
But no… that wasn’t good enough. You, as in you and you and you and you, the individuals, wanted more, more, more, more. Always more, always better, always … higher. So instead of kicking back and living a life of leisure as a species, there arose non-stop infighting, for the sake of having more than the next guy. More what? We could metaphorically call it: sunlight. But the tragedy is that there is plenty of sunlight to go around. You silly, silly, redwood trees. As soon as you got to 200 feet tall, you ruled the skies. You dominated wherever you went. You had your own ecosystem and it worked. But you were so used to competing against other species that you fought on, against each other. And now many of you are 300 feet tall. Some as tall as 380.
Think of all the additional resources it takes to make and maintain a 380 foot tall tree compared to a 200 foot tall tree.
Don’t worry, redwoods. I’ll still come camping and I will always be awestruck by you because let’s face it, you’re awesome. Even if you ain’t so bright.