“How old do you think this tree is?” the guide asked. “Anyone want to guess?”

I stared up at the towering rainbow eucalyptus, its bark streaked with otherworldly bands of green, purple, and maroon. It pierced the clouds above, rivulets of light from the afternoon sun filtering through its leaves.

Standing in a circle with our bamboo walking sticks, each person in the group took their best guess.

“300 years?” a young man in cargo pants ventured. “250?” a silver-haired woman chimed in. Others guessed 500, maybe 200, possibly 150.

The guide smiled.

“This tree—and this entire forest—are less than 50 years old.”

She explained that back in the early 1980s, the Kona Cloud Forest Sanctuary did not exist. The land we were standing on had been used for cattle ranching. Decades of overuse had left it ravaged, stripped, and bare. Devoid of any plants aside from raggedy patches of grass.

Then, a team of conservationists began a reforestation project, driven by an exciting question: how quickly could we create a thriving forest? 

They chose fast-growing native trees and plants that would cooperate with one another rather than compete. Root systems that could interlock, plants holding hands with their neighbors, helping each other to grow faster.

Planting strategically, they created an environment with the perfect conditions for new life to flourish … fast. In just a couple of decades, the land has become unrecognizable.

Hearing this, I was stunned. As I gazed around the forest sanctuary—vast trees soaring a hundred feet in the air, thick vines, soft moss—it didn’t seem possible.

All of this grew from nothing? In less than 50 years? A blink of an eye.

My sister Olivia (left) and I (right) saying hello to the big eucalyptus tree.

 

The forest is not only beautiful. It has created new weather patterns.

The trees catch vapor rising from the ocean, forming clouds and mist, and the cool condensation drips down their trunks into the volcanic rock below, where the liquid filters back down towards the coast to begin the cycle anew.

Where there was previously only barren land and scorching sun, now, there is water.

As the tour ended, the guide said simply, “Thank you for visiting. We hope this forest has shown you that meaningful change is possible in your lifetime.”

* * *

Certain kinds of changes take centuries, even lifetimes, to happen.

But sometimes, positive change can occur rapidly. Faster than we might think. Especially when people work together, rallying around a shared vision, and taking decisive, intentional action.

Time can bend in surprising ways, depending on our attitudes. When we ask, “How quickly could this happen? What could be possible?” we move fast. But when we assume, “This is going to take forever,” we move slowly. (Or not at all.)

What might be possible within your country, community, or family, in the span of your lifetime? Or in the next year? Month? Week? Before the end of today?

Today is not over yet.

My hope for humanity hasn’t run out yet, either.