To my way of thinking and it may sound esoteric, trees call out to me, if I will take the time to listen – not all trees but let’s be truthful, but not all Four Footed or Two Footed inspire me, either.
It seems some individuals have that ‘seen one tree, seen them all’ attitude and just bolt past them. Oh, ye of little understanding. If you are one of those unfortunates, listen up and learn the secrets whispered in the wind, shouted across mountains, lingering far and wide, over the great expanse of time.
Once upon a time (oh, you heard that story already), well okay….you know how Momma and I go walking. I observe, I sniff, I listen and I respond. I mean, no kidding, you may meet up with a flower so exquisite, with such an intoxicating smell, that it is impossible to go by without stopping. Or I can gaze for hours at Momma’s shiny stones in her rock collection or lay in the front garden, watching teeny, tiny ants and beetles, busy, busy, busy. Let me tell you about the miles Momma and I have walked, the paths we have taken and all the trees we have seen. Yet none compare to my Smart Tree.
A huge tree, with a thick foliage of leaves, it shades all takers from the hot summer sun or even provides shelter in a rainstorm (NOTE: Stay away during a thunderstorm). It is young enough to be vital and strong, yet mature enough to have a history. And it communicates, not just to me but to all who would take the time. I recall the first occasion I heard it whisper to me, the leaves, rustling gently. I stopped, looked up, up, up, so far that I felt my neck crack in protest. It was a tall straight tree with such symmetrical branches, it looked almost engineered to perfection.
Then my eyes scaled down the trunk to the base of the tree and I could not believe what my eyes were showing me. It was as if an artist had painstakingly carved an eagle eye that could see forever and back, a monkey perched on a bench surveying all, an angel with the head of a dog. The more I looked, the more I saw. And toes, much longer than a Two Footed. And is that a forked tail? Is that even possible? No, these toes and tails must be the fossil of the dinosaurs or dragons long since extinct.
Momma, Momma, Momma what can this mean? I hear the tree tinkle with laughter – like Momma would know their well guarded secrets! Still, Momma has an answer, because well Momma always has an answer, even if it is not the right answer. It is Mother Nature, Jakita, driving rain, wind, ice, exposing roots and carving messages in the trunks, cautioning us, and warning us, while at the same time inviting us to celebrate their wisdom and truth, earned over their long life span. The only problem is that the Two Footed are pretty much deaf to tree whispering.
Not me Momma. I could come here every day to listen, look and feel the power of this tree. It is like the carvings play mind games with me, confusing me by appearing different each time I gaze at them. Some days they appear frightening, some days they are benign and some days they are friendly like, welcoming me to come closer. I am not sure what that is all about but I do know that tree is calling me, beckoning me to not accept things at face value but always be ready for change because change is inevitable.
Still I wonder, what if Momma is wrong? Maybe it is not Mother Nature but instead those wee people who come, in the dark of the night, with chiseling tools and lanterns, to carve the tree trunks.
I mean, Momma, you are the one who taught me, ‘All things are possible.’ Let’s come back some night and see if we can catch them in action, okay, Momma?
