On Forest Mojo

And canopied tunnels of love

Walking was like a religion to me at the time, except I went to church at least three times a day, seven days a week instead of just once a week.

For fifteen glorious months nature was my church, my sanctuary.

That was way back when I lived on the far east side of town. Now I live on the west side of town. We have better sunsets over here. But what the east side of town has that the west side does not is a nature trail.

Who doesn’t like nature trails, right?

The nature trail on the far east side of town is approximately four to five miles long. (Plus it was a six-block walk to the trail and six blocks back.) I walked the full length and breadth of that trail and back again EVERY SINGLE DAY. Even when it snowed. And that was only one of my three daily walks.

My morning walks were short and were scheduled to allow me to get to the best spot in time for my sunrise ceremonies. My evening walks were also fairly short and were timed to coincide with the aforementioned sunsets.

That middle of the day walk was the long, long one. On inclement days that walk would only last a couple of hours. On a good day it sometimes lasted well over three hours. That’s a lot of church.

Sunrise and sunset are portals.

Going up and down a trail from one end to the other every single day, I met and became friends with a whole lot of trees. Perhaps you already know that I am a tree freak. I prefer the term, tree freak, to, tree-hugger. Being a tree freak encompasses so, so, so much more than mere hugging.

There was one tree on the trail that I became very close with. It was an old giant Russian Olive tree. Russian Olive trees are considered by academia to be an invasive species; a nuisance tree that messes up the ecosystem. Those darn wonderful, fantastic immigrants brought this tree from Russia to America. And what a gorgeous, silver-leafed tree it is! And you know what else?

The Russian Olive tree has thorns! There is nothing sexier than a tree with thorns!

Or is that just me?

Anyway, the nature trail follows a gully, or, as we call it where I’m from, arroyo. The Great Plains of Turtle Island may sometimes seem like a very, very flat place, but there are fingers carved out of the land by rivers— both permanent rivers and temporary ones, and it is in these gullies, or arroyos, that little tiny forests spring up. And very small and narrow ecosystems develop in these fingers of carved land. Little tiny forests exist and while walking through one of these fingers — like which the nature trail follows — one can be in a forest and pretend you are not even on the Great Plains.

Anyway, every time I passed that gorgeous silvery Russian Olive tree I would greet it and express my love and often I would hug it. I hugged it knowing that some day someone might come along and take the tree out because it is an invasive species. I poured a lot of love into that beautiful tree. Judging by its size and girth, I am guessing the tree is probably around a hundred years old, which, of course, means that it was born before I was.

But there is another kind of forest available to the walker here in the little town in which I live on the Great Plains of Turtle Island. Along with the natural finger forest along the nature trail, there is a very different kind of forest located throughout the town. It is a teeny, tiny urban forest. It is a whole different ecosystem with different kinds of trees than the finger forests. A good part of this little town has tree-lined streets that form some impressive canopies. There are so many trees that are close to a hundred years old. I mean the sidewalks are seriously cracked.

If you gave me pictures of ten different streets and you told me that I could pick any street to walk down, I guarantee you that I would pick the street with the most and the biggest trees.

I love walking right down the middle of a street and looking upwards to a canopy of tree limbs crossing the street and intertwining with the limbs of the trees across the street to form an intense vibrational tunnel, if you know what I mean. It is a serious energetic mojo that combines the energy of nature and the consciousness of the Universe. A tubular energy vortex can develop and grow in these canopied tree tunnels. It’s a great place to charge up the old batteries, so to speak. And those trees are old and have a crazy amount of stories to tell.

I don’t think there is any drug or intoxicant that comes close to delivering the high vibration of a forest high. If we shut up and open up to it we can slip into other dimensions of consciousness and accidentally bump into God.

When I moved to the west side of town I still drove to the nature trail on the east side of town almost every day. That is, until I sold the car. In the last four years I have been car-less. I have been walking everywhere through these old delightful urban forests.

But walking the eighteen blocks to the nature trail, then eight miles of nature trail, then the eighteen blocks of urban forest back home, well….

….that’s a lot of church!

Now that I have been working for the last four years and one week, I just have not had the time to take such long walks/hikes. And with each passing year of employment I have gone out to the nature trail less. My nature batting average has fallen precipitously.

But I am going out there next week, gosh darn it! You bet I am. Last week, in a sudden epiphany, I realized that I had not yet been out to the nature trail this year! That’s right, the solstice was just two days ago and the year is OVER HALF OVER!

I have gone over half a year without visiting the nature trail! The trees must feel like I have forsaken them. I miss them so much. I cannot wait to hear what they have to say after me being gone for over half a year.

It will, no doubt, be a long walk. Lot’s of catching up to do. I actually have a lot to tell all those trees and I am sure they have plenty of stories to tell, too.

But I am not just planning a long, long nature walk for next week, I am also planning a picnic. Sadly, this will only be my fourth picnic so far this year. Normally, I would have engaged in at least a dozen picnics by now but this year I am way behind and dying to catch up and surpass any records I might hold. If you did not already know it, I am also a picnic freak. (It is an undeniable scientific fact that food always tastes better out-of-doors.)

I want to eat something out in nature that I have never eaten out in nature before. How exciting is that?

I have scheduled my recuperative nature trail walk for next week — either Wednesday or Tuesday, whichever comes first.

And I plan on making a little stop on my way out to the nature trail way, way, way out on the east end of town. I will have a little playdate with my two little besties that day, too.

Maybe I will report back about my upcoming journey along the nature trail. Who knows?

Those fifteen months of intense nature macro-dosing was the best vacation I have ever had in my life. I am so grateful for that experience. I really hope to take another vacation soon — maybe even a permanent one. There can be so much more tree time when one is not shackled to a job.

There must be a couple of hundred birds in the tree outside my window right now. Each and every one of them is singing their little lungs out. I am on the verge of slipping into ecstasy.

I don’t know if I mentioned it but I am a bird freak, too.

What would the birds do if there were no trees? (And what would humans do?) Trees are so very critically important. Wouldn’t it be cool if peoples of the world had the same symbiotic, nurturing and loving relationships like birds and trees have together?

When trees hold hands to form a canopied tunnel they are gifting anyone who passes through that tunnel large doses of tree mojo. It is extremely therapeutic. It is, of course, beneficial to go through that tunnel with an empty mind. It is a heart thing, not a noggin thing. That is how one can feel the mojo.

I just realized something. Trees never take vacations! They can’t. They are stuck. So if a tree wants a vacation they have to turn their every day lives into a vacation — staycation? or rootedcation?

Maybe there is a lesson in that. I don’t know.

I better wrap this up because it is time for a walk. The birds are calling me forth. It is time for church. It is time for a heavy dose of forest mojo as I walk the little oasis-on-the-plains urban forest. Luckily, this forest contains numerous mulberry trees and their fruit is currently ripe. Trees are so giving!

I am looking forward to next week’s nature trail vacation and picnic.

Don’t be shy. Hug a tree!

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