Foxtail Pines (Pinus balfouriana austrina)
While hiking through Miter Basin I initially do not see these noble Foxtails. While sitting to tie my bootlace, though, the four trees catch my attention like the momentary glint of a tiny remnant of foil imbedded in the dirt. I focus. I shift my sunglasses. Yes, I see lots of rocks, standard-issue Sierran granite, resting on a hill. Some are polished smooth and slippery like a lacquered grand piano, and others are rough-hewn. There are patches of grass in the dirt and sand.
Then I see the four trees. They look really old, regal and not unlike Middle Earth ents. They stand guard over their rock pile in their little corner of the Sierras. They seem so out of place, like a robin in the garage.
I understand that some foxtails can live well over 2,000 years old, not quite as old as their nearby cousins, the 4,000 year old Bristlecones over in the White Mountains. These four have ruled here I'm sure, in close proximity to each other, since the birth of Christ. There are no other foxtails in this entire basin.
I stare a long, long time. Then I pull up my socks and move on. After exploring the basin all afternoon, I return the way I came. I forget to look for the four foxtails. I know, however, exactly where to find them.
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