WHAT THE TREES TOLD ME: PART ONE

I have been sitting out in the forest at night. There is a place where I can see the Milky Way from the edge of the trees, and the rocky faces of the hills as the light fades, and I think it can't get any darker, and then it does. 

An ecotone is the term for a place that is on the edge of two ecosystems. An example might be where taiga meets steppe. At the ecotone, there are features of both taiga and steppe, and also new features. There might be a marshland, for example. There can be a mixing of climates, like an alpine climate where a cold wind drops into the plains, and warms with the land. Ecotones are dynamic places humanwise as well. Taiga people meet steppe people, and there is an exchange of culture and economy and language and genes. Anthropologists like ecotones as much as biologists do. 

Where I go to sit out, I have my own miniature ecotone, which is why I can see the stars from the edge of the trees.These trees are not native; they are mostly pine trees, flanked by ferns and blackberry. I have come to terms with pine trees, as long as it is not monoculture. They give me pine cones, and I remember Cernunnos, that boreal being, stag shaman, shapeshifter, animal charmer. All these forests are his, even at the other end of the world. I use an old Chaos magic banishing ritual and hallow the space, and Speak to the land spirits. I make offerings to the great helping spirits who I work with. I sit down and wait to be astounded. I am lucky that so far it has been a place of rich insight. 

On the way back there are always further wonders and marvels. The trip to and from a place like this is always important. We are best to develop a working attitude as we approach such a place. As we leave, we are best to travel lightly and slowly as we reflect. One of the wonders is a group of ti kouka, or cabbage trees. I have always liked them. They, like me, are creatures of the margins, of river bank and forest edge, of ecotone. They are common and often overlooked. Their leaves make great fire starters, but the trunks are so impervious to fire they were once used as chimneys. In a light wind, they rustle their long dry leaves, clever and sardonic. I can imagine a behind-the-hand commentary. The picture here is of ti kouka by a river; these are not the ones in question, but trees are the most joined-up creatures around.

We know now that trees recognize kin, that they nurture each other and they send and receive resources according to need. When the ti kouka Speak to me, on a night in the forest, others affirm what they say days later. 

This silvery and fantastic night, they seemed like important people, courtiers or grandees, nodding to me in acknowledgement and and rustling drily. There were seven of them, each as wise as the others. I asked them if they had something to tell me. They were deeply aggrieved. They were very clear that nice rituals and 'thoughts and prayers' are meaningless now. No, they don't want offerings or consciousness raising. They want action. There is sickness all around them and things that look fine are actually in trouble. Humans need to be on the streets and in the halls of legislature. It all needs to stop, now. 

So I felt pretty chastened and since then the grief and confusion of the times we live in have become more acute for me. The trees are right of course. The shit is getting way too real.