When it comes to communication with living things that are not human, many of us tend to become skeptical. Do animal communicators really hold conversations with dogs, cats and even wild creatures? Or, are they saying how an animal might respond…if they could think like a human?
Let’s take that a step further. How about communication with plants? Is that possible? In his non-fiction book, Travels, Michael Crichton talks about communicating with a cactus during a New Age workshop. At first, the cactus wouldn’t say a thing, but finally after days Crichton describes his conversation with the somewhat sickly looking plant that wasn’t getting enough sunshine.
Let’s take it another step. How about communicating with a tree that provides a precognitive message? That story follows. It comes from a beautifully written book called, Partnering with Nature: The Wild Path to Reconnecting with the Earth, by Catriona MacGregor (yes, one of the clan).
She describes arriving home from the office in Oregon late one evening. It was already dark on a moonless night. She was carrying a bag of groceries as she walked carefully up the unlit stone path to her house. “As I turned the corner to walk through the dark, empty lot next to my house, I saw a soft, glowing light. A golden-white light illuminated the lot warmly, like the delicate rays of the first morning sun.”
To her surprise, the strange light seemed to be emanating from a large tree in the lot. “I searched around for a more plausible source of the light, yet I could find none.” After going inside and putting her groceries down, she returned for another look. She expected to see only darkness. “Instead, the tree illuminated the lot and surrounding buildings as brightly as if the moon had come to rest gently on the soft grass.” A deep sense of peace, beauty and joy enveloped her.
“…I knew that the light was the fire of the tree’s divine spirit—the tree’s very soul. There are no words to describe that which is known as intimately as a lover and yet remains unfathomable.”
The next day, she returned home earlier than usual. “When the empty lot next to our house came into view, I was stunned. What I saw was not the beautiful tree that I had communed with less than a day before. Instead, I saw a ghastly two-foot stump surrounded by tiny clumps of wood arbitrarily spewed around the lot….My sadness was immeasurable. Yet, I also recognized the miracle that had occurred. The tree, knowing of its impending demise, shone forth its inner light, sharing its everlasting soul with the rest of the world as if to say: Behold, I am more than bark and limbs and leaves and roots. I am eternal beauty and wonder. Celebrate and honor what I am and recognize that we are one and the same, as this marvel exists within yourself as well.”
Beautiful story, a precognitive tree.
People think I’m crazy because I talk to trees. They are made of the same stuff that we are made of – they just vibrate at a different level.
Yes, Lauren….I have copies of THE SECRET LIFE OF PLANTS, and also THE PSYCHIC SIDE OF PLANTS. Both books discuss all kinds of controlled scientific experiments that have been performed. The experiments are phenomenal, and forever can change one’s view of this world we share with other non-human living entities.
I think most gardeners know that plants become friends, and respond to love. I think someone wrote a book called the Secret Life of Plants about that a long time ago. Why is it so strange for people to conceive of us living in a living, conscious world that is responsive and communicative? Our ancestors knew that………I believe the “spirits of the trees” and other “spirits of place” are the origins of the fairy myths, the Katchinas, and so many other similar myths………
Uh-Oh. I’ve known the poem TREES by heart since I first heard it as a child, but this morning I forgot two lines and want to correct them:
I THINK THAT I SHALL NEVER SEE
A POEM LOVELY AS A TREE.
A TREE WHOSE HUNGRY MOUTH IS PRESSED
AGAINST THE EARTH’S SWEET FLOWING BREAST.
a TREE THAT MAY IN SUMMER WEAR
A NEST OF ROBINS IN HER HAIR.
UPON WHOSE BOSOM SNOW HAS LAIN;
WHO INTIMATELY LIVES WITH RAIN.
POEMS ARE MADE BY FOOLS LIKE ME,
BUT ONLY GOD CAN MAKE A TREE.
Joyce Kilmer was born 12-6-1886, died 7-30-1918,at the age of only 31, from a head wound while fighting in WWI in France. He left behind his wife Aline and several children. His poem TREES was initially banned as being vulgar, but was later reclaimed and became a standard. He received the highest award a soldier can receive for valor in combat. A promising, gifted young life snuffed out way too soon. I wonder if he is reincarnated and writing again, somewhere. Hope so.
A beautiful poem!
A final comment: When we moved into this townhouse 23 years ago, ours was the only structure on this long block. To the right of our home, there were trees that must have been hundreds of years old, stretching in deep woods far down to the corner. One morning I woke up and felt the ground shaking and shuddering under this building, I feared we were having an earthquake, and I heard what sounded like cries and screams coming from outside. Cries and screams that SEEMED human; pitiful, terrified; grief-stricken. I walked out onto our upstairs front deck and saw huge land mover machines cutting down all the gorgeous old trees that had been there forever. The machines were clearing the woods to allow new homes to be built there. The trees? It was their cries and screams that my soul was hearing…..so REAL that my physical ears seemed to be resonating with their death cries. Progress, say the builders. Death, to our most precious resources. Tress give to us the oxygen that we breathe, as well as their beauty. We are killing them. Such pain….
What a beautiful, inspiring story! Thank you so much for sharing it with us. As the regular Synchro bloggers know, we live on an island on the beach. I’m not a “beach person”, however. While the ocean is magnificent, MY peace comes through communion with the forests; trees, plants; flowers; rocks. I admit and am not ashamed to call myself a “tree hugger”. I DO hug trees.
The nite my young Dad died at Emory in Atlanta, when I was 17, I walked out of the hospital, alone, sobbing, and put my arms around an enormous oak that was near the sidewalk. I swear, it was as though that ancient tree FELT my inconsolable grief, and it wrapped me in “something”, I’ve never known what, or how to adequately describe it, that honestly gave me a sense that angel wings were holding me. Folks might say it was my imagination, but I know in my heart it was LOVE coming to me from that ancient tree that had sheltered so many for so long.
Our home is filled with plants. They like certain kinds of music. This has proven itself to me. Of course plants turn toward Light. They also turn toward certain music, especially soft classical pieces. I believe the Native Americans were filled with inherent wisdom….they expressed gratitude to the spirits of the plants that provided food for them, as well as to the animals that gave them sustenance. Again, this post is so beautiful; so inspiring; so thoughtful. Thank you. This will be a lengthy comment, because I’d like to share a poem I read when I was in my teens and have never forgotten it:
TREES by Alfred Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair.
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me.
But only God can make a Tree.
I remember a book I read, a long time ago, where it theorised that we all become, or have been, many things including rocks and plants. At the time I didn’t like the idea! But stories like this make you think what journeys we may have travelled.
Maybe life as a vibrant tree wouldn’t be so bad! Something along the lines of the Ents in Tolkien.
That story really touched my heart. I know that all things are filled with light and intelligence, if only we are able to see and hear with our own inner light. Thank you for this story. I know I have communed with old growth trees in the High Country.
I bet those old growth trees have plenty to say, stories to tell!