My Boyfriend Spoke to Trees
And they spoke right back
In my 20’s I had a boyfriend who spoke to trees and by society’s standards, he would have been considered a bit off his rocker. I remember the first time we went to a wooded park close to the apartment I lived. It had a large expanse of mature trees that for some reason had escaped the ravages of countless hurricanes over the years. It was frequented by walkers, and joggers, and mothers with their children. It had a welcoming feel and soon it became a place that we frequently visited.
This afternoon he told me to come with him, he wanted me to see something. I immediately got excited thinking that he had found some secret spot where we could have a private moment. Instead, he took me to this very large tree, I do not know what species it was but it was huge, the trunk needed at least three persons with arms outstretched to encircle it and the canopy was as wide as a small island. Birds, small animals, insects, and even other plants made it their home.
He drew me closer and wrapped his arm across my shoulder, “Listen,” he said, “this tree talks to me. It tells me about nature, it shares its energy with me, it offers me advice when I ask, it…..”
My eyes went huge. I looked at him, hoping to see a merry twinkle of mirth in his but all I saw was a kind of loving connectedness. He stepped closer to the tree and massaged the rough bark. “Do you feel it? The energy, the life?”
“Errr, no” I responded, “but I think that that bird is going to poop on your head,” pointing to a large grey bird that looked like a cross between a pigeon and a hawk, staring curiously at us and ruffling its tail feathers.
“Trees have so much to say, they have been here a lot longer than us and they have seen things that we can only begin to imagine. They give off a special energy that acts in tandem with our human energy fields and energizes and grounds us at the same time.”
“ So…., no kiss?” I asked, hoping he would change the subject to something more pleasurable.
He laughed, squeezed my shoulder with the arm he still had wrapped around me, gave me a peck on my forehead, and whispered, “one day you will get it.”
I remember the day I got it. I was in my garden vibsing off the energy of the place when an old cherry tree said, “I see you finally got it.”
Laughter spilled from my lips. How did it know? I was not even in the same country, I had since moved back to my home and so many years had passed to boot.
I marveled at the connectedness of things. I silently mouthed a word of gratitude to be part of this great unfolding. I did not answer the cherry tree. It knew.