If Trees Could Talk, page 13
That’s why the messages from The Grandmothers and from The Three Witches are so important: when we’re feeling powerless and dissatisfied with the current state of our world, we need to do what we can on an individual level to step into our own personal power and shift the state of things.
There’s a lot that can be done on a personal level to step into our own power, and we can start by following the guidance and the wisdom of the trees in these last two chapters. The more we do at an individual level, the sooner things will begin to shift. We can already see changes happening in the world, and soon we’ll reach a tipping point where we topple over into a sense of harmony and balance. At least, that’s what I hope is in store for us.
I choose to believe in a better future for this world. I know this is possible, and I prefer to work toward it through my own personal development and by stepping into my soft power. You will know what’s right for you.
And what about you? How do you feel about this Divine feminine power? Is it something that you resonate with? Is it something that you’re willing to accept into your life? Are you willing to tap into this energy, and to help others in your life cultivate this? What terms do you prefer to express this “feminine” and “masculine” energy?
Do you believe in the power that you have as an individual to help change the world? If not, what would you need to believe in order to truly feel the power you have inside you to change things, even on a small scale?
15
Sacred Springs Sycamore
One of my favorite places in Wiltshire is a sacred spring. On the OS Map, it’s nothing more than some blue lines and a small patch of green woodland, but in reality, it’s a place of deeply special energy. It’s like a little bubble outside of time and space that you only really experience after climbing over the fence — the old stile is long gone — and crossing the large stepping stones that span the river, which is dry during the summer months, and gently flowing during the winter. Once there, the sounds from the nearby road seem to be muffled, and it’s possible to enter a state of deep calm and peace.
To the right of the stepping stones, and just beyond them, a willow tree dominates the scene, with its trunk bowing down, forming curves that arch across the flowing water that pours from the spring during the wet months of winter. Its branches are adorned with multicolored ribbons and cloths — some fresh, some faded. Offerings are often left at its base. It is a wishing tree.
Its form is mimicked in an archway made of vines that stands to the left of the stepping stones. If you walk through this arch, which is also decked out in colored ribbons, a little path leads you up and to the left onto a little hill, where a large sycamore stands. It’s a strange little grove littered with torn sheets of plastic, which I can only assume might have been used by people to camp up on the little hillside. Unfortunately, if this is the case, the campers did not feel the need to carry out their rubbish, and the large sheets of plastic stick out like a sore thumb in the otherwise pristine little wood. On one of my previous visits to the springs, this sycamore had let me know that he had a story to tell. This was on a cold wintry afternoon early in the year, when I had settled down against its wide trunk to have my lunch. After my meal, I warmed up with some hot tea from my flask, and I resolved to return at a later date to receive its story, perhaps when it was warmer and more comfortable to be sitting still for a time.
Despite returning to the spring several times after that visit, even during the warmer months, it wasn’t until the days before Samhain that I actually sat down to collect the tree’s story. The air was once again chilled, as we were deep into autumn, and I climbed up the little hill and walked a circle around the sycamore before settling in next to it. From my viewpoint up atop the little hill, I could see the wishing willow down below, and the fields beyond. As always, I was alone at the site. I knew that other people visited the spring, as there were always new ribbons whenever I visited, but I never saw anyone else when I was there. I sat in silence for several minutes, relishing the peace and tranquility of the site, before pulling out my phone to record the story. The sycamore spoke:
It is very important that you allowed yourself some time to slow down before recording my story. It is important that you allowed yourself to sit against my trunk and soak up some of the energy of the place, for this is a special place, and you know it. You can feel it as soon as you come over the little fence and cross the river. Even when the river is dry, you feel a sense of crossing into another realm — which you are not exactly doing, but you are crossing into a very special place: a place of the elementals. And you know this because it was told to you, but you would have sensed that energy anyway, even if you had come without knowing. When you have brought friends here, they have sensed it. All the people that come here feel something special, even if they don’t understand it. But very few people walk up to this little hill, into this little wood, where we are, where I am situated.
From here you have a view of the fields beyond, of the hill, the sun in the sky. You are surrounded by green, and you have the spring down below — that is where the center of the energy is, with the willow tree down below — and I suspect that tree will have a story for you, too. What I am here to tell you is to pay attention to these spots, to allow yourself to return as many times as you feel drawn to.
But I encourage you to spend time here. Not just five minutes, ten minutes: come, look around, leave. You can sit, you can have a cup of tea from your flask, you can have lunch, and you can sit and close your eyes and soak up the energy of this place and open yourself up to connect with the other beings that reside here. Just because you cannot see them, does not mean that they are not here. Some people can see them, as you know, but whether you can or you can’t, it does not matter. You may want to ask permission to come into their special place, you might want to ask permission to stay awhile. Do whatever feels right for you. But you know that they are here, and know that they are not to be feared, no matter what stories you may have heard about them.
Stay awhile and close your eyes and open yourself up to the magic of this land. Soak up the energy. Sit, get comfortable, lie down, but stay awhile. If it is cold, you might want to put on an extra layer of clothing, as your temperature can drop. But stay awhile. Stay awhile and open yourself up to the possibilities of places like this, of connecting with the elementals, of connecting with the Nature spirits. Of connecting with the plant spirits, the tree spirits, the green spirits, the Green Man, the Green Lady, Mother Nature, Earth. It is especially easy to access these energies in a place like this, and it is particularly easy at this time of the year. If you are seeking to have a deeper connection with these types of spirits and energies, now would be a good time to come, now, or in May — or any time of the year, there is no bad time to come — to make a connection, to express your interest in communicating with them and developing a relationship with them, and to help them by caring for the land.
There are things that everyone can do. The first that comes to mind is recycling, but that is the norm now. That has been the norm for years and years, but think about how you can conserve energy — resources — this is how you help the planet, this is how you help Nature, by leaving a lighter footprint, by being more respectful if you are drawn to Nature. If you are drawn to the earth, if you are drawn to walking, to being outdoors, why would you not want to care for the planet, to care for the earth, to love it, to respect it? You may find that the more time you spend outdoors, the more than you will want to do: to care for the planet and care for the gifts that Mother Earth gives us. For she is here — she is everywhere, but her spirit is especially strong here.
So, I encourage you to come, come to places like this. Return as often as you feel drawn to. And I encourage you to change your life and change your habits. Change your way of thinking, change your actions, so we can care for this land, this land that gives you so much.
That is all. Thank you.
The Sacred Springs Sycamore was the first tree to talk about the importance of being kind to the planet — not just in the sense of watching where we tread, but in leaving a lighter footprint in terms of the natural resources that we use and how we treat our waste. He would not be the last tree with a message of this sort. It made sense that the trees would be concerned about how humanity is treating our natural resources: for years we have disrespected the Earth, taking what we want with no regard for the sustainability of our actions. It’s time for more of us to take different actions that will lead to more sustainable living.
I loved that the trees were beginning to provide not just spiritual advice, but also practical advice on how to be kind to our planet. Our inner work must be balanced with our outer work — as we work on our personal development on a spiritual level, we must work on it on a practical level. It makes no sense to do things only halfway.
And while I sense that I may be preaching to the converted — most people who have a love for Nature or who are drawn to read a book of this sort will probably already be living an eco-friendly or sustainably minded life — there’s always more we can do. There’s always a little something more or something different that we can do to improve the way we treat this planet.
What about you? How can you change your life to show more respect for our Earth? What habits can you change? What things can you do differently? What actions can you take — big or small — to help the planet?
Are there any sacred springs in your area? This is not the first sacred spring that I’ve mentioned in this book, and I have found them to be places of very special energy. If you’re not aware of any sacred springs near you, go online and search for one. You might be surprised to discover that there are several that you can visit.
16
White Road Oak
I had been to Savernake Forest once before, and I felt drawn to return to it in the days before Samhain. I suspected that some of its ancient trees might have some stories for me, and I was not wrong. Savernake Forest is a Special Site of Scientific Interest located near the market town of Marlborough, just down the road from Avebury. This 2,750 acre (1,112 hectares) forest is privately owned by the Earl of Cardigan, his son Viscount Savernake, and his family Trustees. It is managed by the Forestry Commission.
Savernake Forest is full of ancient trees — in fact, it is believed to hold the highest concentration of veteran trees in all of Europe. This forest, made up of both native and non-native trees, is crisscrossed with tracks and footpaths, with some of the primary roads and tracks coming together in the very center of the forest at a place called Eight Walks. Savernake Forest is bisected by Capability Brown’s Grand Avenue, a beech-lined private drive from the late 1790’s that stretches almost four miles (6.5 km) long.
On the day that I returned to Savernake, just before Samhain, it was a crisp autumn day, and the paths around the car park were full of dog walkers. I hurried to get out of the more transited areas, but it would be some time before I got far enough away to escape them. Shortly after parking my car, I took a photograph of the map of ancient trees that stood in the car park, and I had a loose plan of trying to find some of them. It seemed easier to organize my day in that way than to aimlessly wander the huge forest, wondering if I might come across one of the ancient trees.
One of the first giant trees that I came across was the White Road Oak. It immediately caught my eye, and I climbed up the bank and off the main path as I approached it, walking a full circle around its giant trunk before settling down against it. Its trunk was wide and gnarled, supporting its broad canopy above. I felt very exposed, as there was nothing to hide me from the main path, and people were walking all around. White Road Oak was situated right at a crossroads of two major paths and was still very near the car park.
I knew the oak had a story for me, but I was reluctant to pull out my phone and start recording. Dog walkers kept coming down the path, and at one point a large group of walkers went past with a guide. Fortunately, they didn’t approach the tree, nor did they pause for long before hurrying off down the track. The White Road Oak seemed more than a little amused by my fears, urging me at one point to “get on with it!”
I knew I was being silly: after all, who cared what I was doing? What did it matter if people saw me talking into my phone, recording the tree’s message? They probably wouldn’t get close enough to know what I was doing and would think I was talking on my phone… in any case, I was about to make my tree channeling very public with the publishing of this book. It’s not like I would be keeping my conversations with trees a secret. And yet, I waited for things to quiet down on this busy corner of the forest before I pulled out my phone to record this oak’s story.
The reason I told you to get on with it earlier is because you need to get over yourself when it comes to receiving these stories. Who cares what people think? As you can see, people don’t care, people just barely look at us. You have just watched a group of about twenty people who have clearly come to this forest to see the ancient trees that live here, and they walked by, paused for a moment, and continued on. The guide did not encourage them to connect with me, to touch me, to spend some time in my presence, to feel my energy, nothing. It was just: “oh look at that tree, this is a big oak,” and then they moved on. And they will do the same with all of the other trees they visit: today, tomorrow, and quite possibly always.
It is fine to come and look at trees. Obviously, we are not offended by this. It is better than nothing: it is better than not coming to look at trees. But we urge you to connect more with the trees. We are ancient, and I am hundreds of years old. I have been here for years and years and years, for generations of you humans.
Please stop a while underneath our branches. Stop, rest, feel, experience. There are many people here who do not even stray from their path to come and look at me. You have just seen a dog walker pass by, glance over her shoulder because she saw you, and she must have seen me. I am much bigger than you are! But did she divert from her track, her path, to come and look at me? No, because she is just walking her dogs.
And this is fine, this is okay. We trees are pleased any time anyone comes to walk amongst us, whether it is to walk your dogs, or for a morning run, or for whatever. This is all fine and good.
But, if you are the kind of person who wishes to deepen your relationship with Nature, and who wishes to deepen your relationship with the trees, and the plants and all of the green things, then we urge you to slow down. Don’t walk so fast; don’t move so fast, just slow down. And spend more time, walk more slowly, linger longer, and experience with all your senses: your sight, your smell. Do you even smell the forest? Pick up the leaves now that it is autumn, pick up the leaves from the forest floor, and smell them. Smell an old rotted log. Smell the green fluffy moss. Smell the trunk of a tree. Smell the air.
When you go to the woods, are you really experiencing it with all your senses? This is another way that you can better connect with the woods, with Nature, with the green things. And we encourage you to do this. There are so many delicious smells. The soil: just kneel down and press your nose to the earth and smell — you might feel silly doing it, but that’s okay, no one will care. They might look at you funny, but who cares?
And for those of you who have children: we would encourage you — I would encourage you — to see if your children would play in this way: to smell the forest, to touch the forest, to connect in different ways with their senses. It is wonderful to see children walking in the woods, but if you can encourage them to connect with us at a deeper level, that is even better. Children are the future of this world, and the more connected they are to Nature the better it will be for this Earth, the better for this planet, the better for you, the better for me, the better for everyone who lives here. So bring them outdoors, bring them out dog walking, bring them walking, bring them in the woods, and if you can encourage them to connect at a deeper level, encourage them to touch, feel, smell — even taste if you are out when there are berries that are edible. Teach them to forage, and learn to forage yourself.
Connect, connect, connect at a deeper level, and encourage your children to do the same. Encourage your nephews, your nieces, your grandchildren. You may be surprised to see how willing some children are to make these deeper connections, and you can make it play, you can turn it into play: you can make a checklist of different kinds of trees to find. Different kinds of things to smell, things to touch, things to feel, things to experience.
And ask them how they feel as they connect with each tree: ask them if each tree feels differently, or if they feel the same, or what they feel or how they feel. Ask them if they can sense the personality of the tree. They might think you are silly, or they might not, you never know. Make a game with it. Take your children out into the woods and see if you can turn this deeper connection into play. This is very important for the future. And we encourage you to have fun with it. If you do not have children in your life, we would encourage you to play yourself, to play with your senses in the woods. Slow down and have fun.
That is all.
The first time I had ever really focused on the scent of the woods was in January on the forest bathing Meetup that I attended, and yet I had seemingly forgotten to concentrate on using that sense in Nature throughout the year. Granted, the colder it is, the harder it is to smell the fragrances of the forest. But it’s perfectly possible to get closer to the elements of the forest and do as the White Road Oak suggests: pick up the autumn leaves that carpet the woodland floor and smell them, bend down to get closer to a decaying log and smell it, pick up a tuft of green moss and sniff it. It’s even easier to stand or sit next to a tree, turn to its trunk, and inhale deeply. And the air — what does it smell like? There may be a farmer burning leaves on their property, or the smell of a flowering elder tree nearby. Nature has so many smells!
