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Thoughts of writing on this blog have fallen down and in between the roots of this soulful winter in which so much internal metamorphosis took priority.  Starting from the transformative solstice (soulstice) to this fast paced month of February, deep layers of thought, emotion, and consciousness have risen from within our beings to be examined, refined and winnowed.

Until now, I have been unable to articulate this process and its relation to the tree beings. Here, I hope to return to a more regular sharing of the messages from the woods.

Today, on the walk to the sunny spot in the forest, these words came to me: "as the snow softly melts, seeping into deep the layers of the earth below, slowly and almost imperceptibly it begins to reveal the ground on which we stand. As it melts, so too will clarity slowly, inevitably be revealed for all that perplexes, confounds and restricts your joy."

Then I wondered, in that moment, what in me needs to melt before this gentle clarity can bless me, too. Before it can come, and come it will in its perfect time,  what receptivity to warmth, light and hope do I require?

In the forest, snow melts gently into the cover of last year's fallen leaves.  The gentle melting of ice allows for the perfect seasoning of this fabric of botany that lives beneath the surface of leaf mould. Have you ever pushed back the top layer of leaves in a forest and seen the intricate and delicate weave of sinuous roots? Roots quickly extends small shoots into this environment gaining purchase into this realm of moisture and nutrients.  It appears that the growing tendrils savor the nourishment and life present in this layer.

This layer welcomes the frozen water that has fallen this winter in its crystalline wonder.   As in any Emoto experiment, the snow captured the essence of the energy through which it froze. (http://www.masaru-emoto.net/english/water-crystal.html)   As the crystals melt, the water releases the gifts of this essence to the trees.

As I contemplate this process, I begin to see that as I seek clarity in this early Spring light, expecting to get all the information before it is ready to be released/revealed is futile.  The release has its own timing.  The forest floor patiently awaits the full release of this information, whether it be in snow melt, spring rains, or morning dew.  Slowly the truth will be revealed. Then, too, we will feel clear; like a spring morning when hope is restored and the unfathomable seems conceivable.

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Hello dear readers,

I am taking time from writing to try to fix the subscription link on this blog.  As some of you may have discovered, it does not work.  I had hoped to publish my next piece about elder trees in Philadelphia, but have been distracted from this focus by the procedural aspects of blogging.

I hope to get this fixed soon as well as get the next piece up for your viewing.

Feel free to write in the "comments: area because that subscription check box appears to work. (The mysteries of computers still baffle me) I am interested in your journey with the trees as well.

The support of the forests feels ever more dear to me and I hope it will support you as well.

Thank you,

Catherine

 

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While visiting the forest, I stop to listen for songs.  I want to hear the songs from different individual tree communities.  I do this meditative walking during my favorite hour when the light is soft and sun is close to setting.  During this twilight hour my senses are sharper and clearer.  In the bright of day, distractions overwhelm my senses: bird songs, light playing with shadow and squirrels scampering. But at twilight, I can hone in to the sensations around a grouping in the forest.  My senses become keen.

Within the ecosystem of a forest,  there are many various groupings and homes for the energies of the forest beings.  A home may be trees encircling a wet spot, or the trees at the bottom of a slope. Or it may be defined more subtly as simply a natural stopping spot on the path.

As I walk at dusk, I stop now and then,  wait to listen to what is presented. Sometimes, I imagine I am "hearing/feeling" something new.  These new sounds are sometimes quite faint or dim.  As I pause, many questions arise: Will the sounds become brighter, louder, clearer over time? For example, I do notice that the trees that are noticed, attended to, and loved in a forest seem to grow brighter, fuller, stronger.  They Glow.

Further questions: Is the song I hear a function of the observer who is listening?  Does the quality of sound say more about my listening skills or the level of my quotient of receptivity to that vibration? Or does the level of sound reflect an actual vibration strength of the emission? Or is the answer both?

The trail of these questions leads me to the following thought: that as we humans learn to "tune in," to notice that what surrounds us, to pause and embrace it, we learn that what we sense is not Other, but a reflection of ourselves. We learn that we are one piece of this great cosmic planet. With attention and practice, we can grow in our skill to be in rhythm and harmony with this beautiful planet and our world.  It appears to me that our rising skills increase the harmony of planetary sound.  This thought brings great joy- that we can be co-participants and creators of the peace,  and beauty that belongs to this planet earth.

"As you begin to pay attention to the direction of the Conductor within, you will begin to play to the rhythm of the Planetary Symphony, harmonizing with others of your species, and with all of life."  Ken Carey