Dreaming of Trees

The tree seems to grow on its own in the woods, on the plains, by the bayou, leaning over the bank of the river, or illogically pushing up through the granite rocks. Yet, there is a complex support system in place. While the snarly tender roots divide and grow, searching for the spare nutrients and molecules of moisture in the soil made of finely ground rocks, the vascular cambium pushes the same process up, stretching above ground. The tree in its glory is gasping for Co2, while exhaling oxygen and returning moisture to the air we breath.

There is community in this process. Consider the earthworm. Quietly, except to the robin, breaking down the earth, making space for air and water to reach those hungry roots. And of course there’s the sun with its essential contribution to photosynthesis and nutrient production. And the leaves, that bud and grow and then fall, contributing to the protection of the tree and the new growth that follows.

What an incredible system. Could we take an example as humans so that we could live in a healthy relationship biosphere? Could we send our roots down in nutrient rich soil, instead of unstable sand, that shifts with time and cultural moods? Could we honor those smaller than us, the earthworms that contribute so much but are often unheard with no voice of their own? Could we reach high – higher than we ever thought possible to seek to take in the residue in the air, and reach for the light so that we might renew the waste, and breathe out what is good for the human race?

Could we develop strong bark, a protection of sorts, and develop rings of wisdom and knowledge, and yet yield to the needs of the surrounding forests, fields, grasses, animals and birds. This is my heart’s desire but there seems to be so much reversal of energy. Toxicity is being put out into our shared atmosphere.

It takes very little energy to listen, to look at one another with compassion, to delight in the small silent ones, to notice the earth, look up to the sky and see the birds in flight; to be grateful. Let us all be like the tree – willing to send our roots into healthy soil, so that we might return something to our world, that is even better than we have received.

Janet E. Hartwick Sterk