Redwood Creek winds under the canopy of Muir Woods, in Northern California, where redwood trees grow upwards of 200 to 350 feet, with a typical lifespan of 500-700 years. The sequoia sempervirens, the redwood tree’s Latin species name, means forever living/green. These trees, remarkably, spread their roots no deeper than 6-12 feet, and rely on the interweaving of adjacent redwood tree roots to so successfully survive. The forest ground is shaded and strewn with dried needles. Overhead in the direct sunlight, researchers from The Institute for Redwood Ecology at Humboldt State University report that the forest canopy is its own ecosystem. Climbing up to the topmost heights of these trees, they have discovered fern species, and such trees and shrubs as Tanbark Oak, California Bay, Cascara, Sitka Spruce, Douglas Fir, Western Hemlock, Huckleberry, Salal, Elderberry and Gooseberry. While Redwoods rely on rain and coastal fog, which nurture this forest system, Redwood Creek weaves a path below, contributing its nurturance not only to the Redwoods, but to the coho and steelhead salmon, which return to Redwood Creek to spawn each Winter. Walking in this evolved space of sustenance, I was drawn to the articulated vocabulary of Redwood Creek. Tour brochures mention the murmurings of the creek, but my friend Barbara and I found a far more rich, sonorous language of resonance, roil, rush, roar, and dappled run. Listen with headphones and come walk with us in Muir Woods and share the forest with the wildlife, other visitors, and an ambient sound artist balancing on the edge of the water.