The Memory of Trees
I passed by a lot of tree groves today and they were the most gorgeous...ethereal places. The sunlight filtering through the leaves, dappling the soft grass, the energy golden and buzzing. I just wanted to sit down in their presence and close my eyes.
When I was younger, in my teens, I had a vision of a forest, sun- dappled, moist and very green. I called it my cathedral, only that it wasn't man-made but natural...real. Eversince then, the memories and visions of trees have had been haunting me, whispering, warming me inside.
Perhaps, the memories of trees are linked intimately with wolf and wolf loves the forest. I am not a wolf of the tundra, nor am I a wolf of the plains. I am a wolf of the forest, a shadow weaving in and out of the green trees, nosing through lush undergrowth. I yearn for that cathedral. I want to see a physical embodiment of it. Yes, I have constructed it in my mind's eye and when I meditate, I am there, sniffing, running, walking.
That's probably the reason why I find so much comfort seeing the trees here, in my country. There are precious spots of green and when there are trees, there is this sense of divinity, of sanctity. I wonder why the people here are blind to the beauty. I mean, noone dares to sit under the trees or lie under their canopy. They leave the groves of trees alone and potter along their mundane lives. It's sad because sometimes, I feel that people have lost an integral part of themselves. It's akin to cutting off their limbs or - worse - their souls. But a lot of people are walking, soul-lost and *blind*.
I wish people have the courage to open their eyes. Not to money. Not to materialism. Not to hard 'scientific facts'. But to the pulsating heart which is Life, which is Nature.
For me, the memories of trees will sustain me for years, like a running underground spring.