If we are sitting comfortably et us talk forests, woods and, more specifically trees.
My week with the trees in Herefordshire was memorable. I left Arran behind but carried with me some distressing thoughts that I could not shake. They had their roots in a crisis of belonging but they had grown into darker and more hostile feelings. My mind is not always kind to me and this was one of those times.
Early into my time in Herefordshire I found myself in the depths of the Forest of Dean and completely alone. So I walked and then I walked some more. Following the sculpture trail ensured small rests along the way but the weather did decide to grit its teeth at me on more than one occasion. At one point the hail stones were so big they actually hurt my head but still I walked. I wrote about the history of the Forest of Dean last week but I couldn't post pictures and they tell their own story. This piece of writing is about my personal history with the forest, however brief.
Through the walking and through the sitting I began to relax and let my mind wander off by itself. This is not always a good idea but on this day it seemed like a good decision. As autumnal dappled light escaped through the tree tops I felt the closeness to the sun. A closeness that you get when you know summer is over and you are clinging on to the sunshine as hard as you can. The gentle warming and the shards of light made for a great companion as I walked. My mind did not consciously rest anywhere in particular but a growing sense of reconnection grew from within. I was in the middle of a 30 day rewilding challenge and had brought some new wisdom with me on this walk.
I could hear, see, smell, taste and feel better as a result of the work in the rewilding challenge and this allowed for a deeper understanding of where I was. The Forest of Dean is an ancient English woodland which is peppered with a huge variety of trees. I live in Scotland and this is not the case so the variety was a real and enduring blessing. For much of the walk I thought that that was what I was connecting to and feeling enlivened by. I was wrong. Some way through my walk it dawned on me just how many wonderful oak trees I had seen. The shape of an oak leaf is one of my favourite shapes in the natural world and I had quite forgotten how much I missed the English oak tree.
Almost as I was thinking these thoughts I came across a sculpture made out of a single oak tree trunk and I was captivated in its presence. The size of it spoke much about the scale of the tree but the patterns within drew my eye and then my full attention. With the lightest of touch I traced each and every pattern awakening myself to the messages hidden deep within. I have always thought trees to be spiritual entities with their roots deep in thee ground and their branches high in the sky. Earlier in the rewilding challenge I had sat under a tree for 30 minutes and this experience had changed the way I view time. I had thought that 30 minutes would be a long time to sit under a tree but the reality was quite different. 30 minutes flew by and I wished I could have sat for longer.
Standing opposite this relic of an magnificent oak tree that had lost its roots in the earth and its branches in thee sky I felt a little sad. Quickly this sadness evaporated as I traced the patterns and could hear the heart beat. It came from a place deep within the ground and travelled through every pattern and out into the space around the sculpture. The legends of trees tells us that oak provides us with inner strength and aids clarity. In this wordless exchange I understood the message and I did not question it. Reluctantly I left the oak sculpture in search of more walking and I let my mind continue its wanderings.
This walk was to set the tone for the entire week as I lost many hours with my trees. Losing time was not the only thing I lost. As the week unfolded I lost all the feelings of sorrow that I had felt back on the island. I did not do this consciously and I can not tell you much about my thinking during this time. Walking among the trees had helped me in ways I do not fully understand but I am not sure I need to understand. In my heart the willow tree has always held pride of place as it is the tree for inspiration and intuition. Now, however, it has to nudge to the left slightly to allow the oak to take its rightful place in my heart. It gave me strength and, for that alone, I will be eternally grateful.
Until tomorrow. xx
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