Have You Met Sam? Finding Awe on the Three Bridges Trail, Atascadero

Have You Met Sam?

An old oak, a little moss, and the magic of looking closer.

Saturday morning. A crisp autumn day. The kind of morning that makes you want to pull on your hiking shoes, breathe in the cool air, and head outside.

We decided to hike Three Bridges, one of our favorite local trails here in Atascadero, California. We'd had some rain over the past couple of days, and everything felt fresh and alive. The air was clean, the earth was damp, and the landscape seemed to have taken on a deeper shade of green.

And then there was the moss.

Oh, the moss!

There's something about moss that makes you want to reach out and touch it. That soft, velvety, almost fur-like texture. The way it blankets rocks and creeps along tree trunks, turning ordinary surfaces into something magical. And that green! Such a rich, deep, beautiful green that you can't help but stop and look a little closer.

I find myself wondering why we're so drawn to it. Why does something so small and simple invite such curiosity? Maybe it's because moss makes everything look a little enchanted. Like you've wandered into a secret garden that nature has been quietly tending while nobody was watching.

But as much as I love the moss, there's someone along this trail I love even more.

His name is Sam.

An Old Friend Along the Trail

Sam is an oak tree who stands proudly at one of the switchbacks along Three Bridges. I couldn't tell you how old he is, but he's magnificent. Tall, sturdy, full of character, and, as far as we're concerned, always happy to see us.

You see, Sam has a face.

Not a face in the traditional sense, of course. But if you look at his trunk, you'll notice what appear to be two eyes and a wonderfully wide smile. The smile looks like it might have formed from an old scar, perhaps where a branch once grew. I'm not entirely sure how these shapes develop on oak trees, but whatever created Sam's expression, it gave him a personality all his own.

And if that weren't enough, near the bottom of his trunk is another marking.

A heart.

Yes, an actual heart-shaped scar.

How could we not fall in love with him?

Our Little Tradition

Every time we hike Three Bridges, we stop to visit Sam.

We say hello. We tell him how handsome he is. We thank him for being there, standing tall and welcoming us along the trail.

We gently touch his smile and smile back. Then we reach down and touch his heart.

It's become our little tradition.

I know it might sound silly to some people, talking to a tree. But I don't think it's silly at all. There's something deeply comforting about returning to a familiar place and finding an old friend waiting right where you left him.

Sam doesn't ask for anything. He doesn't rush us along. He simply stands there, season after season, doing what oak trees do best. Growing, sheltering, enduring, and quietly being magnificent.

And we want him to know he's appreciated.

I sometimes wonder how many people have walked past Sam without ever noticing his face or the heart on his trunk. Maybe hundreds. Maybe thousands. Or perhaps others have noticed him too and have their own little conversations with him.

I'd love to think so.

Whenever friends join us on this hike, we make a point of introducing them to Sam. After all, you can't just walk past a friend without saying hello!

A Little Love Left with Sam

There was a time when several of my siblings weren't doing well, and I found myself carrying a lot of worry for them.

So I did something that felt right to me.

I selected a few crystals, one for each of my siblings, and brought them along on one of our hikes. When we reached Sam, I asked him if he would hold them for me. To hold my love for each of them, my hopes for their health, and all the good wishes I wanted to send their way.

I entrusted those little crystals to Sam, knowing they would rest with him, surrounded by the quiet strength of nature.

I can't explain exactly why it felt so comforting. Maybe it was the symbolism. Maybe it was the simple act of letting go of a little worry and placing it somewhere beautiful. Or maybe it was knowing that Sam, with his big smile and heart, would be there holding a little piece of my love for my family.

And somehow, that was enough.

I don't know if trees feel love the way we do. But I like to believe that Sam knows how much he is loved.

And now, he holds a little of my family's love, too.

Sam's New Look

After the recent rains, Sam has been growing moss of his own.

And I have to say, he's looking pretty fabulous.

The beautiful green moss has begun decorating his trunk, giving him an entirely new look. With his big smile, heart-shaped scar, and now a little green moss for flair, he's looking like quite the rock star.

A very old, very wise, very handsome rock star.

We couldn't love him more.

The Awe Is in the Details

I think about how easily we could have missed Sam.

We could have hiked right past him, focused on getting to the top, counting our steps, or thinking about everything waiting for us back home.

We could have missed the moss, too. All those tiny, velvety patches of green quietly thriving after the rain.

But that's what I love about hiking. And what I love most about nature.

It invites us to slow down.

To notice.

To be curious.

To look at something we've seen a hundred times and somehow see it differently.

There's so much beauty in this world that doesn't announce itself. It doesn't demand our attention or ask to be admired. It's simply there, waiting for someone to notice.

A patch of moss. A heart in the bark. A smiling old oak tree named Sam.

And sometimes, those are the things that stay with us long after the hike is over.

We love you, Sam. We'll see you next time.

Sometimes the awe of nature isn't just in what we see. It's in what we feel, what we share, and what we leave behind with love.

There is so much awe in nature. We just need to look a little closer.