Olympic National Park boasts natural wonders that visitors travel from around the world to catch a glimpse of: the glacier-capped peak of the nearly 8,000-foot high Mount Olympus, the mossy, gloriously silent Hoh Rain Forest and the striking juxtaposition of where lush woodlands meet sheer cliffs along the state of Washington’s rocky coast.

Beyond the park’s awe-inspiring landscapes, though, there’s also a more humbling scene that travelers have been drawn to for years: a single Sitka spruce clinging to life atop an eroding coastal bluff.

The Tree of Life, as it’s come to be known, doesn’t exactly sit on Kalaloch Beach — it is suspended over the sand between two separated sections of the bluff, its timeworn roots dangling into the cavern below that’s been carved out by the sea. At least, that’s the magical spectacle that tourists hunting down this Instagram-famous sight have found in recent years. Unfortunately, the tree’s seemingly ironclad will to survive the brutal Pacific coast is finally faltering.

This past winter, particularly stormy weather and the powerful swells of king tides peeled off layers of the bluff that were essential to the tree’s support. In the space where visitors were once able to stand directly underneath the hovering tree, they must now contend with descended roots and driftwood wedged between them.

Many who have visited the tree over the years have posted photos on social media alongside musings about the tree as a sign of hope, a symbol of nature’s resiliency and an inspiration to stand strong when the odds are against you. But over the last several months, those uplifting photo captions have been slowly replaced with eulogies for the tree and reflections on its life.

“I visited the Tree of Life today for the first time in a couple of months. I was surprised at how much the tree has fallen, the bank eroding beneath their roots,” wrote Syren Nagakyrie, founder of the nonprofit Disabled Hikers in a December Instagram post.

Nagakyrie, who uses they/them pronouns, added that they’d be surprised if the tree survived the winter but that “people have also been saying that for years. As we turn toward the winter solstice and another year, it has been easy to feel lost in the dark,” they wrote. “But I try to remember that light and dark can’t exist without each other and aren’t separate. There is hope in both, and it is okay to cling and to fall.”

Seattle-based elopement photographer Henry Tieu had seen photos of the Tree of Life before moving to the Pacific Northwest from Oklahoma. But his real introduction to the region’s natural scenery came through experiencing Olympic National Park. When he visited the tree with his husband for the first time, it stopped him dead in his tracks.

“To see this large, old tree that’s just hanging on by its roots — it’s striking, it’s symbolic,” Tieu said. “It’s an example of there being beauty in life in places you’d never expect to find it, and that you can go through a tough time and still manage to survive somehow. It definitely spoke to me during that visit.”

When Khalil and Sophie Haddad decided to elope in the fall of 2023, the Tree of Life seemed like the perfect place to pronounce their love for one another and tie the knot. After studying the tree of life as a general symbol across Eastern spirituality and having caught the national parks bug during a post-pandemic move from Chicago to Seattle, the location spoke to them on a personal level.

“We’re not extremely religious people, but we both lost our moms young and have a spiritual nature,” Sophie said. “The Tree of Life was a perfect place to tap into that. It felt like a liaison between us and our moms, allowing them to be there with us in a way.”

The couple hasn’t revisited the tree since their wedding day but has decided to try to see it one last time before it washes away. Other visitors have suggested protecting the tree from the elements to prolong its life.

But for Amy Neil, general manager of the nearby Kalaloch Lodge, it makes more sense to let nature take its course.

“There have certainly been people who want to save it, to build a wall of some sort to protect it,” Neil said. “But the ocean will always win. You can’t fight back against a force of nature like that.”

Coastal erosion is something the lodge is proactive about, constantly monitoring the bluff as the wind and the sea encroach. Multiple cabins containing at least 10 rental rooms have been removed from the property in the past few years as the bluff has slowly disappeared and retreated from the sea. It’s possible that the cabins will be rebuilt down the road, farther from the shore, but those plans aren’t in motion yet.

According to Ian Miller, a coastal hazards specialist with the Washington Sea Grant, the rate of erosion along the shoreline varies. Over the 10 years he has recorded data at Kalaloch Beach, the bluffs north of Kalaloch Creek have pulled back just a few inches a year. Meanwhile, the bluffs south of the creek and closer to the lodge have retreated as far as 3.5 feet annually.

Miller is almost certain that there’s been acceleration in the rate of erosion in the area, but he said the cause is not clear to him.

“Erosion in this area is inevitable, in a sense that there’s only one direction these bluffs can retreat,” Miller said. “If beaches erode, they can rebuild themselves or people can come in and nourish them. The bluffs can’t really be repaired once they’re gone.”

Admitting he isn’t a big social media user, Miller said he hadn’t given the tree much thought until visitors started showing up in the past few years.

“It’s certainly an interesting spot, but it never struck me as unusual,” he said. “When you work on this coast, you’ll see that same story playing out in multiple locations.”

On the Olympic coast, large pieces of driftwood accumulate on the beach. And that’s exactly where the wood comes from — the erosion process, Miller said.

“At some point in the future, the Tree of Life will be driftwood. I’m sorry to say it, but that is definitely what will happen,” he said. “But there will surely be another tree that takes its place one day.”

Sandtastic Travels With coastal bluffs at Kalaloch Beach continuing to erode, the Tree of Life is losing the support that it depended on to stay upright.

Sandtastic Travels Travelers used to be able to stand directly underneath the tree, but recent storms have caused it to collapse into the cavern below.

iStockphoto Kalaloch Beach in Olympic National Park.