All posts tagged: ancient trees

Grandmother Cottonwood

Cottonwood buds, the first harvest of the new year. I walked in the cold winter sun out to visit Grandmother Cottonwood. One tall, ancient one surrounded by millions of younger sprouts all interconnected and intertwined under the soft marshy ground of the Sandy River Delta. My fourth year of going forth and gathering the bounty dropped by these giants when they hold their wintry dances in the wild, blowing wind. Water and earth grow tall, hold the riverbank together and then coaxed by the wind throw off gifts for the people. And what sweet gifts they are laying like a pile of discarded antlers on my kitchen table. The resinous buds full of antibacterial and antimicrobial compounds the bark astringent aspirin like. Even the bees know to use this medicine, gathering copious amounts of it to be transformed into Propolis. The thick reddish goop they use to seal their hive against invaders of all sizes. Bacteria, mice, even the wind itself is pushed out. It was a strange sight this time to visit Cottonwood. Blackberry …

Walking among the Ancient Trees

Walking among the ancient trees I pause. Feeling their presence strong and stalwart. Stillness engulfs my thoughts until there is only now. I feel my being open, expand, flow into the earth and up to the sky. I look up. Drops fall great distance from moss covered branches. These beings have been standing here a long time. They are so different from me, yet their presence is familiar, like home. Some of them have already fallen, only stumps remain. But the stumps are not dead, they are the ground for new growth. New growth rises up out of this one. Three trees, already older than me, and beneath them a mysterious cave. The dwelling of the ancient one who's heart beats strong.