I went to a talk a couple of years ago about tree communication. I think I shared this link before; I’ll share it again. Scroll down at https://www.restoringearthconnection.org/friends-of-trees and you’ll hear the sounds of a tree in an intact forest and a tree affected by clearcutting.
I have a long memory of trees,
and probably from before I was born . . .
some of them real,
and some of them
only seen in dreams,
Unless this is all a dream too.
When I was very young,
there was a mimosa tree
on our lawn
with pink dancing dresses for flowers,
and later a dogwood
with perfect Ivory petals . .
.the beauty in some trees
lies in the foliage . .
the locust tree in my backyard
all feathery and light,
and the ginkgo,
whose leaves are like little fans
by the post office in town
.At the back border of our property,
there were six Norway maples
and I call them my Norwegian ladies,
as their arms reach up to touch the sky
as if they are dancing to the wind.
Sadly,they are short-lived
and are dying one by one,
with only four left this year.
I think we all have an innate connection to trees . . .
they breathe for us
along with the other plants and shrubs.
They shelter and comfort us,
inspire and delight us . . .
they capture our imaginations,
they house the birds and small wildlife,
feed and shelter insects,
and offer good observation branches to stretch out on
for those who scour the land for food,
asking for nothing in return.
In this world
it’s not always easy
to find so gracious a friend. ♥
Every day on my walk, I study the trees. I give thanks for the shade they provide me in the summer. Some are tall and majestic and others gnarled and stooped. One huge tree lays on its side where it finally fell from rotting within. I imagine it could really tell some stories because it is obvious that it had lived a very long life. When we lived on a farm, we had tall sugar pines and we had to thin them for their own health. The money we received paid for my daughter’s allergy testing. Thank you dear trees. I can’t look at a tree without knowing that it is cleaning the air for me to breath and I am providing the air it needs to flourish.
I found this entry in my journals and honestly I don’t know if I wrote it but definitely identify with its message so if any one recognizes it, please let me know the author:
“I like to study trees and speculate on their journey. Like a Teddy Bear that a child has hugged and carried in the backyard dust, left in the hot car, spilled and decorated with his/her food and drink, they both sometimes look worn and torn but is so much luckier than the toy that is left on the shelf or the seed that has never been rooted in the earth. The tree, sometimes snarled and crooked, sometimes tall and majestic, always finds a way to the sun. And that well-worn Teddy Bear knows more about love than most of us.”
Also, wanted to share a poem from Maya Angelou:
WHEN GREAT TREES FALL:by Maya Angelou
As Maya Angelou says, “We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.”
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
~ Maya Angelou
Oh boy. Trees are such a big part of my life. Some of my first memories involve trees. I don’t think that a day goes by, that I don’t notice something about a tree. I could write a book about the trees in my life.
Is it weird to be so involved with trees? I could tell you about the trees that were around every place I have lived. And why not? These beings have lived longer and seen more than I will ever see.
I love trees. There, I said it. 😁
I once a crappy apartment. It was hot as hell in the summer and in total disrepair and infested with bugs and eventually mice. I stayed in that apartment longer than I should have because outside my one large window was a beautiful redbud tree. In the spring its buds were the most beautiful shade of pinkish purple. In the summer its leaves shimmered in the wind magically. In the fall the leaves turned a beautiful chartreuse. It was lovely to look at that tree as I started my day and seemed to make all the other detractions of my living space fade. Today, I live with a beautiful spacious backyard full of trees of all kinds from evergreens to maples. I love seeing the buds burst in the Spring and the beautiful colors in the fall. My favorite is sitting outside in the summer and seeing the leaves shimmering in the breeze and listening the birds flying tree to tree.
I love trees in too many ways to count. Every tree gives its unique gifts to the world: Its shape, colors, the patterns of its leaves and limbs, the texture of the bark, fruit or flowers or nuts if those are in its nature, its hospitality to the many creatures who live on and in it, life-giving oxygen for all living creatures and cleansing of the carbon we humans are producing in far too enormous quantities.
If I pay attention, trees remind me that we’re healthier in community, stronger when we tell each other about things we need to protect ourselves against, beautiful no matter what life has done to our shapes, sizes and limbs, and that our gifts live on beyond when our growth and metabolism come to an end and we become earth.
Robin Wall Kimmerer beautifully described the ongoing life of and from a tree in “Experimental Theology” in Emergence Magazine. I’ve shared it before. It comes to mind again now since we had so many beautiful thoughts about the awe of being present at a death in the responses to yesterday’s question. https://bioneers.org/robin-wall-kimmerer-becoming-earth-experimental-theology-ze0z2409/
What an incredilbly beautiful essay
by Robin Kimmerer,
dear Barb.
Anyone struggling with death
can be comforted
by the exquisite truths within.
Thank you so much
for sharing it with us . . .
I will keep this
among my special papers. ♥
I’m doing my best not to waste paper, even though it’s not expensive to get. I just don’t want to take more from the trees… I got a house from them, desks from them, a bookshelf from them, and many more. I think that’s more than enough I took from trees.
I do the same, Ngoc! So much wasted paper comes into my home that I didn’t ask for, despite working over the years to get taken off mailing lists. We recycle, but I’ve thought about learning to make paper so I could recycle it that way.
I have a bamboo desk, which makes me happy. It’s a beautiful light color, and bamboo is so fast-growing. A forest didn’t have to be destroyed for me to have my desk.
I’m with you! When I walk to our local bakery (a very regular occurrence!) I pass a yard that has this wonderful tree. Branches spread out and twist, moss covers the trunk, little ferns grow on it in places. It looks completely gnarly and then in spring it bursts into bloom.
There have been different trees throughout my life, magnolias at Granny’s where the family sought shade and story telling, a dogwood blooming as the perfect backdrop for prom photos, a willow my kids played under.
I think of the symbolic tree of life in jewelry, art, books that symbolizes connection, and hope.
As a child, a huge red beech close to our house was my favorite place to climb up high and loved to just silently sitting there, having this wonderful wide view on the world from a distance, just being there, the branches strong, the leaves offering shelter, their eatable little seeds in their shells in autumn nourishing me. I loved this tree and I felt loved and sheltered by it. Without trees, there would be no life possible on our precious Mother Earth. The very beautiful single chestnut tree at a very special seminar hotel, which is standing there in full unfolding beauty, tall, strong branches, healthy leaves spared of the fungus sickness these sort of trees are infected with often these days. Usually giving it a little hug or tender touch when arriving or inbetween, like others do also or silently talk to the chestnut.
The redwoods in the Californian coast area, giants standing together tall and strong since ages, surviving fire since eons, arousing a deeply humble feeling of being silenced, sheltered and in awe I cannot really convey with words. Trees to me are a life-giving mystery and a gift of sorts. Thank you dearly.
Greetings from Holbrook, Arizona. When my lovely wife Cheryl and I stopped at this motel about 5 pm there was a 4 foot bull snake sunning itself in front of the lobby door. I opened the door a tiny bit to bump the snake and make her/him mosey on. This part of the world is fairly treeless but the visit by a non viper, that Cheryl saw from the inside of the truck and was sure it was not a rattler, because it did not coil she said, made the picture perfect in Navajo Country. Home this afternoon to see the progress of the spring leaf out of the cottonwoods along the Alamosa River. As Dorothy says, “There’s no place like home.” Peace, Love & Light
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. . . a lovely song for Earth Day . . .
Pete Seeger
The Garden Song
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u90qRE2F7CM
I went to a talk a couple of years ago about tree communication. I think I shared this link before; I’ll share it again. Scroll down at https://www.restoringearthconnection.org/friends-of-trees and you’ll hear the sounds of a tree in an intact forest and a tree affected by clearcutting.
I’ve seen these videos,
dear Barb,
and have been moved
to deeper understanding of trees . . .
thank you for posting them again. ♥
That’s really neat, Barb. Thank you! There was a definite sadness in the sounds of the one affected by the clearcutting.
Thank you!
I have a long memory of trees,
and probably from before I was born . . .
some of them real,
and some of them
only seen in dreams,
Unless this is all a dream too.
When I was very young,
there was a mimosa tree
on our lawn
with pink dancing dresses for flowers,
and later a dogwood
with perfect Ivory petals . .
.the beauty in some trees
lies in the foliage . .
the locust tree in my backyard
all feathery and light,
and the ginkgo,
whose leaves are like little fans
by the post office in town
.At the back border of our property,
there were six Norway maples
and I call them my Norwegian ladies,
as their arms reach up to touch the sky
as if they are dancing to the wind.
Sadly,they are short-lived
and are dying one by one,
with only four left this year.
I think we all have an innate connection to trees . . .
they breathe for us
along with the other plants and shrubs.
They shelter and comfort us,
inspire and delight us . . .
they capture our imaginations,
they house the birds and small wildlife,
feed and shelter insects,
and offer good observation branches to stretch out on
for those who scour the land for food,
asking for nothing in return.
In this world
it’s not always easy
to find so gracious a friend. ♥
💚
Love your green heart
for Earth Day,
dear SunnyPatti . . . 🙂
Thank you Sparrow. Your words are very visual.
Thank you too,
dear Avril . . . ♥
Every day on my walk, I study the trees. I give thanks for the shade they provide me in the summer. Some are tall and majestic and others gnarled and stooped. One huge tree lays on its side where it finally fell from rotting within. I imagine it could really tell some stories because it is obvious that it had lived a very long life. When we lived on a farm, we had tall sugar pines and we had to thin them for their own health. The money we received paid for my daughter’s allergy testing. Thank you dear trees. I can’t look at a tree without knowing that it is cleaning the air for me to breath and I am providing the air it needs to flourish.
I found this entry in my journals and honestly I don’t know if I wrote it but definitely identify with its message so if any one recognizes it, please let me know the author:
“I like to study trees and speculate on their journey. Like a Teddy Bear that a child has hugged and carried in the backyard dust, left in the hot car, spilled and decorated with his/her food and drink, they both sometimes look worn and torn but is so much luckier than the toy that is left on the shelf or the seed that has never been rooted in the earth. The tree, sometimes snarled and crooked, sometimes tall and majestic, always finds a way to the sun. And that well-worn Teddy Bear knows more about love than most of us.”
Also, wanted to share a poem from Maya Angelou:
WHEN GREAT TREES FALL:by Maya Angelou
As Maya Angelou says, “We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.”
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
~ Maya Angelou
And a TED talk about the forest. It’s long but very educational.
https://youtu.be/Un2yBgIAxYs
Wow. Thank you 🙏🏼
Patti, Glad you enjoyed the quotes. hope you had time or get time to watch the TED talk!
Carol Ann, trees are sure useful. They provide shade and can also protect us from sunburn.
Oh boy. Trees are such a big part of my life. Some of my first memories involve trees. I don’t think that a day goes by, that I don’t notice something about a tree. I could write a book about the trees in my life.
Is it weird to be so involved with trees? I could tell you about the trees that were around every place I have lived. And why not? These beings have lived longer and seen more than I will ever see.
I love trees. There, I said it. 😁
I once a crappy apartment. It was hot as hell in the summer and in total disrepair and infested with bugs and eventually mice. I stayed in that apartment longer than I should have because outside my one large window was a beautiful redbud tree. In the spring its buds were the most beautiful shade of pinkish purple. In the summer its leaves shimmered in the wind magically. In the fall the leaves turned a beautiful chartreuse. It was lovely to look at that tree as I started my day and seemed to make all the other detractions of my living space fade. Today, I live with a beautiful spacious backyard full of trees of all kinds from evergreens to maples. I love seeing the buds burst in the Spring and the beautiful colors in the fall. My favorite is sitting outside in the summer and seeing the leaves shimmering in the breeze and listening the birds flying tree to tree.
That tree,
dear Christine,
probably contributed
to saving your life,
or at least your beautiful spirit. ♥
Christine, I’m glad you had that tree to help you reduce the heat during the time you lived in that apartment.
I love trees in too many ways to count. Every tree gives its unique gifts to the world: Its shape, colors, the patterns of its leaves and limbs, the texture of the bark, fruit or flowers or nuts if those are in its nature, its hospitality to the many creatures who live on and in it, life-giving oxygen for all living creatures and cleansing of the carbon we humans are producing in far too enormous quantities.
If I pay attention, trees remind me that we’re healthier in community, stronger when we tell each other about things we need to protect ourselves against, beautiful no matter what life has done to our shapes, sizes and limbs, and that our gifts live on beyond when our growth and metabolism come to an end and we become earth.
Robin Wall Kimmerer beautifully described the ongoing life of and from a tree in “Experimental Theology” in Emergence Magazine. I’ve shared it before. It comes to mind again now since we had so many beautiful thoughts about the awe of being present at a death in the responses to yesterday’s question. https://bioneers.org/robin-wall-kimmerer-becoming-earth-experimental-theology-ze0z2409/
What an incredilbly beautiful essay
by Robin Kimmerer,
dear Barb.
Anyone struggling with death
can be comforted
by the exquisite truths within.
Thank you so much
for sharing it with us . . .
I will keep this
among my special papers. ♥
Trees give us shade on a sunny day and a nice place to have a picnic!
I’m doing my best not to waste paper, even though it’s not expensive to get. I just don’t want to take more from the trees… I got a house from them, desks from them, a bookshelf from them, and many more. I think that’s more than enough I took from trees.
My Ngoc, we sure take a lot from trees.
I do the same, Ngoc! So much wasted paper comes into my home that I didn’t ask for, despite working over the years to get taken off mailing lists. We recycle, but I’ve thought about learning to make paper so I could recycle it that way.
I have a bamboo desk, which makes me happy. It’s a beautiful light color, and bamboo is so fast-growing. A forest didn’t have to be destroyed for me to have my desk.
Funny thing,
dear Ngoc . . .
when a sales clerk
asks me if I want a bag
I always say,
‘no, thank you…
I’d like to save a tree.’ 🙂
I celebrate all trees. The gnarlier the better.
I’m with you! When I walk to our local bakery (a very regular occurrence!) I pass a yard that has this wonderful tree. Branches spread out and twist, moss covers the trunk, little ferns grow on it in places. It looks completely gnarly and then in spring it bursts into bloom.
There have been different trees throughout my life, magnolias at Granny’s where the family sought shade and story telling, a dogwood blooming as the perfect backdrop for prom photos, a willow my kids played under.
I think of the symbolic tree of life in jewelry, art, books that symbolizes connection, and hope.
As a child, a huge red beech close to our house was my favorite place to climb up high and loved to just silently sitting there, having this wonderful wide view on the world from a distance, just being there, the branches strong, the leaves offering shelter, their eatable little seeds in their shells in autumn nourishing me. I loved this tree and I felt loved and sheltered by it. Without trees, there would be no life possible on our precious Mother Earth. The very beautiful single chestnut tree at a very special seminar hotel, which is standing there in full unfolding beauty, tall, strong branches, healthy leaves spared of the fungus sickness these sort of trees are infected with often these days. Usually giving it a little hug or tender touch when arriving or inbetween, like others do also or silently talk to the chestnut.
The redwoods in the Californian coast area, giants standing together tall and strong since ages, surviving fire since eons, arousing a deeply humble feeling of being silenced, sheltered and in awe I cannot really convey with words. Trees to me are a life-giving mystery and a gift of sorts. Thank you dearly.
Trees…
life
oxygen
shade
color
variety
food
clothing
shelter
and raindrops on a leaf!
What’s not to like?
Love this list!
Your post,
dear John,
is a wonderful star
to brighten my day.
Thank you . . .
The Divine in me
bows to the Divine in you.
Namaste . . . ♥
Greetings from Holbrook, Arizona. When my lovely wife Cheryl and I stopped at this motel about 5 pm there was a 4 foot bull snake sunning itself in front of the lobby door. I opened the door a tiny bit to bump the snake and make her/him mosey on. This part of the world is fairly treeless but the visit by a non viper, that Cheryl saw from the inside of the truck and was sure it was not a rattler, because it did not coil she said, made the picture perfect in Navajo Country. Home this afternoon to see the progress of the spring leaf out of the cottonwoods along the Alamosa River. As Dorothy says, “There’s no place like home.” Peace, Love & Light
holy shit, they do look like rattlers!
Ah,
a sun bath . . .
thank you,
dear Joseph,
for giving the snake his or her space
to enjoy Life. ♥
Today is a hot day in the Twin Cities. The high will be 81 degrees. When walking outside, trees give shade to cool me down.