Touched by the trees of my life

THE NATURE OF US

The tree that makes some people weep with joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that gets in the way. Some see nature as all ridiculousness and deformity...and some hardly see nature at all. But in the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.

William Blake

It is challenging to convey in words how trees have touched me and stirred my imagination. I understand what Blake is saying in the opening quote above: it is my feeling that creates the connection with a tree, and imbues that connection with aliveness and depth. Through my perception, I participate with nature, with the tree. And then it becomes a relationship that lives forever in my heart. When we truly see and feel nature we are blessed. I am so glad I have these memories with me, and equally delighted I have the photos to amplify the stories.

One tree I remember well resided in a perfect spot on the Inverness coastal ridge trail. Walking in the fog along the path one day, I stopped in front of this great oak, and noticed it was raining under the tree. The oak silently revealed to me that it catches the fog as it comes in from the ocean, and slowly drips it to the earth. There was a wet shadow on the ground around the tree, and as I continued walking down the path, I then noticed the wet spots surrounding the other tall trees. I stood under each one to receive the abundance of the wetness. The ground was dry everywhere else.

Here she is on a sunnier day. I feel this photo captured her golden heart, as well as the way she touched me when I walked by, reaching out to greet me, and everyone who walked by, in her openness.

I feel that trees convey the truth of love. They root in one place and radiate to each of us what we need, whether comfort or inspiration or tenderness. Trees are companions on this journey through life. Woe to those who thoughtlessly cut them down without a very pressing reason. I have a very sad memory from childhood of my otherwise beloved grandparents: I arrived one day to see they had cut down a huge blue spruce and a wonderful apple tree in their yard, solely because they were dropping leaves, cones and apples on the grass lawn.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. Herman Hesse

In Inverness, there was a pineapple palm that draped over the deck (see above) and reached much further into the sky. I would lie on the deck tucked into the shade of its fronds. I felt this pineapple palm as a protector and true sanctuary. We spent many days together, as she provided the perfect shade for the deck. Shielded by her fronds, I could watch the ravens and crows fly above, sometimes carrying bounty from the nearby bay. I was very sad to leave her when I moved to Boulder. Here she is below from the ground up.

When I left Inverness following my divorce, I drove a thousand miles through the snow with a loving friend to Boulder. The idea for this escapade originated with her husband; they are both dear friends from my earlier life living in Boulder. After a harrowing journey with a storm right behind us, we arrived there one snowy early December day.

A week later, having settled into in a small house I had rented, I went in search of a Christmas tree. This beauty was waiting in a garden nursery, and I excitedly brought her home to be with me on my first Boulder Christmas. She greeted me day and night outside my front door, a beautiful presence in that winter of grief. I showered her with love, and she brightened my days. Here she is with some snow on her Christmas lights.

That summer my landlord helped me plant her in the yard across from the front door, where she brightened my day as I left the house. I came back to California that next year, uncomfortable with the Colorado weather. This photo, from before I left in March 2020, reveals how much she had grown in a little over a year! It’s a wonderful feeling to plant a tree, see her flourish, and feel connected to her life.

There was another Boulder tree in my view, from the same corner windows in the photo above. She too was an enormous comfort in the dark of winter, when she was decorated with Christmas lights as well. I would see her each morning after a fresh snow, glorious in her new coating.

I will always be grateful for the trees I have known, their comforting presence and protection in this crazy life. My heart lifts in remembering each of these beings.

Here she is in all her glory on a wintry day:

Now I live in Bolinas, down the coast from Inverness. In my yard resides a magnificent bottle brush that I have featured in past essays. There is also a majestic red maple outside my front window which I pass many times a day as I walk out the front door. She is a precious companion, and as well reminds me of the two red maples I planted on the property in Inverness before I left. In the fall I watch her shed her leaves, and in the spring I excitedly await her new growth and renewal.

Today I went for a walk in Bolinas after writing most of this essay. Everywhere the trees were calling to me, as if they knew I had been writing about them. Our hearts grow through what we feel and notice, what touches us. I remember in my twenties hoping I would some say feel deeply connected to nature. Now I know the secret is love. In these daunting times, I hope you will notice all the great beings generously holding and loving you.

And to end, this paragraph below expresses some of what I have learned from nature, and especially from trees. (From a Conversation with David Abram, by Larry Parks Daloz):

The body is the location of all knowledge. What we know comes to us through our senses, through our contact with physical, earthy experience. This experience invariably shapes what we perceive. Perception is inherently participatory. To the body there is no object. There is no me apart from other. Everything is animate for the sensing body. Touch a tree and the tree is touching you back. That we no longer know this is part of the tragedy.

Touch a tree and the tree is touching you back.

Here is the essay on trees I wrote a few months ago, a Part 1 to the above essay:

Rooted, like trees

The essay today Touched by the trees of my life, is dedicated to my sister Sue, who lives on the East coast. Because we have spent most of our lives far apart, I never knew she had always loved trees as well, until after my first essay on trees. We grew up in the pine trees of the NJ Pine Barrens, so no wonder that we were seeded with this love of trees.

Thank you for joining me here today!

Sabrina Page, MA in Philosophy, Cosmology and Consciousness I work with individuals and groups, with a focus on somatic inquiry and embodiment, to support you in living life fully, freely, and fluidly, intertwined with nature. As well, I have studied movement, dance and astrology with some of the leading individuals in their fields. My private sessions are offered on zoom, phone, or in person in Bolinas, Ca.

More information is available on my website, sabrinapage.com

THE NATURE OF US is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Free and paid subscribers receive identical content. If you want to support and encourage me a little extra, and your finances are OK, please choose paid.

Do you know a friend who might enjoy THE NATURE OF US?

Please subscribe, your support is a great help.