While camping recently, I had the opportunity to communicate with an enormous tree. I was walking in the forest with two friends, when we came upon a grove of old growth redwoods. We drifted apart—each lost in communion with the energy of the place—but when one of the women re-crossed my path she was crying profusely. I asked her why and she said, “It’s so sad that so many of these magnificent trees were cut down.”

As she wandered away, I put my palms and forehead against the trunk of the largest tree and whispered, “Mother, please give me a message.” Then I sat down on a nearby bench to meditate. Once my mind had become sufficiently silent, I distinctly heard the tree speak in a voice that seemed to suggest relief, but also detachment:

“Many were slain, but I was spared.”

As my meditation deepened, the tree showed me her energy body, and how it went into the ground all the way to the center of the earth. It was vast, and the strength of its vibration nearly overwhelmed me.

“This is my taproot,” said the redwood.

Later, we visited Fern Canyon. Wild and verdant, Fern Canyon has been opened up to more people than in years past, and there were quite a few noisy tourists there. I asked the ferns, “What do you think about all the people?” They laughed in a tinkling sort of way and answered in one unified voice:

“Oh…those animals are okay. We don’t mind them.”

Finally, I’d like to share a “gift” I received from a cottonwood tree two years ago. When we bought an old mobile home in need of extensive repair, one of the conditions of purchase was that we tear down a disgusting series of sheds filled with old cars, motorcycles, mold, rats, and garbage. The man who was selling the home was mentally deranged, and he had built one of the sheds around a tree. There were over 200 three-inch long nails and screws into the tree attaching little pieces of plywood.

I could sense the tree’s pain, and I pressed Tom, my partner, to “liberate” it. He couldn’t get to it right away because the building had to be taken down in stages. But, eventually, all of the nails and screws were out and the tree was freed.

In the spring, when the other trees started blooming, our tree remained a tangle of twisted, dead-looking branches. Then a huge storm in February seemed to “wake it up” and bring it back to life.

One day, after the cottonwood had begun to green, I went out to bless it. I put my hands on the tree and asked it to forgive the unhappy man who had caused it so much pain. As I prayed, the tree showed me a vision of herself in full bloom, gently waving in the breeze. So much happiness emanated from her. Then she sent a huge wave into my hands of delicious “thank you” energy that flowed down throughout my body. It was pure bliss, the pure bliss of spirit expressing itself as a happy tree.

So when you are out in nature, try to slow your breath and allow yourself to be very, very quiet. Put your worldly troubles aside for a few moments. Then wait, watch, and listen for what Planet Earth and her inhabitants have to tell you. Bring your consciousness into alignment with the world around you, and in this way you will certainly attain some measure of inner peace.