My Colleague - Friend, The Elder Tree Of A Coastal Forest
I often venture into a nearby coastal forest, to learn about myself as a human- being that is connected and an integral part of an ecosystem. In this beautiful coastal forest, there are many elder trees, however one of those elder trees began to speak. It was a turning point in my journey in understanding what conservation truly is, how we often, even with the best of intentions, can be out of alignment, and misunderstand what our participation is as one part of a vast intricately attuned ecosystem that is by its very nature, sustainable.
Sustainability is a term that is overused aligned with alot of green washing in an industry that is often fragmented. Instead of connecting at a deep level with our own beautiful nature, exploring what our nature is in relationship as and within the natural world, we separate, treating nature as a commodity, a resource that is there for the taking to service what we think we need to make ourselves fulfilled in some way.
This may seem harsh to some of you, and yet to others you will understand what I am about to share, within my intimate love and deep affection to this wise elder of the coastal forest. You see I heard this elder way before I actually laid eyes on it, it would share how we were related, the energy that flowed from deep within the mychorizal where so much of life is in full swing, unseen by the masses, definitely misunderstood, yet was always open to sharing its capacity for connecting, regenerating, restoring and cycling so it can keep thriving.
The elder tree, spoke of its lineage, its community of all that the forest held within it. Inviting me in, to explore, observe and ask me questions as to what I would observe, what I could hear and sense even before I stepped into the forest. And when I entered, the elder would guide me through its neural pathwaves of light vibrations, for you see it knows that it is pure light that oscillates in infinite sound vibrational frequencies, it is that knowingness that it reached out by sending its signal to me so that I could consciously connect and commune and then share my experience.
Coming from a background where I trained as a horticulturalist, production nursery, conservation and ecosystems manager that uses fertilisers, chemical sprays, sometimes heavy machinery, cuts trees down, educates you on what is a weed and the need to destroy those weeds.
These professions speak of promoting healthy plants through manipulation, pumping a plant full of a particular nutrient, adjusting the lighting and often propagating a plant out of its natural growing season, all for the purpose of the consumer. In bush regeneration, we would plunder without always realising, with often good intentions, to cut down particular species where they were considered to be out of control and suffocating other species of plants deemed to be relevant in that particular ecosystem. Hand pulling, using particular chemical treatments to ensure their permanent removal; sometimes that in itself would be carried out over a period of time according to whatever contract was bestowed to ensure success.
There was a turning point in my journey, not just one but many, before I realised I could not continue working in a way that had become a united mandate of the ‘how to’ manage nature. It was a kaleidoscope of experiences, seeing endemic bushland being destroyed that was home to a myriad of wildlife; no consideration was made as to where this wildlife could be relocated to, all in the name of creating the urban sprawl, with a knock-on effect of increasing the urban heat island. An unhealthy situation for those living in the dwellings now erected, with a token tree planted on a verge, concrete driveways, and tarred roads all playing a part in global warming.
These areas held remnant bushland, where elder trees still existed and have always been held sacred by our indigenous people, as they never knew what it was to be separate from nature; the connection ran deep within the indigenous people so too did the conversations: sometimes no words were needed, other times stories were shared, and the song line continued; respect for all was the mantra.
But I digress, so back to the elder tree. One day it called me into the forest and asked me to follow a path, so I did, until I heard the elder say Stop, look to your left, and so I did. I heard the elder ask, ‘Am I what you expected?’ And you know, in that moment, I wondered if I had an expectation of what the elder tree ‘looked like’ You see, this tree is not the eldest of the coastal forest; there are some others much older for now. Still, it was the elder that spoke to me, in a desire to share and connect. Hence, as I gazed upon this majestic, ever-so-tall tree, I noticed one of its limbs was gone, leaving a considerably large cavity where the limb had grown; I then gazed up to the canopy, so vast.
The trunk was wide, so wide I could not wrap my arms around it, no matter how much I wanted to. It was cool to the touch; in botanical terms, its name was ‘Angophora constata ’, but the name that lives within our connection is the elder tree, although I sometimes refer to it as ‘her,’ or ‘mother tree’, not because it is female, but because it represents one who is ‘nurturing.’
Nature is always communicating, sometimes in words, as words are a series of sound frequencies that take form within ‘word ’, but other times it is that depth of connectivity that is truly beyond words, that inner knowing, gentle, kind and all-pervading. Needless to say, I would visit this forest often, and would become quite attached to simply sitting in her presence. But one day, the elder told me to go out and explore more of her land, get to know other areas that were part coastal forest, part heathland vegetation.
At first I said to her that I was happy just to be right by her side; I wanted to stay close to her and just walk the paths that were in the closest proximity to her (the elder tree). But she was insistent, so much so that she would stop speaking to me until I followed through with her request. I was so worried I had lost the connection, and not honoured her intention for me to grow and learn more of how she grew within the land, that I finally went further afield and began to explore more areas that expanded down to the ocean shaw, through the heathland areas. I did this for some time before the elder tree spoke again.
And when she finally spoke, she asked, ‘What did you observe? What have you learned?’ I had no response; all as I could say was that I missed our conversations, that I missed being by her side. She said she was always present, always listening to me, but had she kept speaking directly to me, I would not grow; my false attachment was stunting my growth, for I needed to keep expanding, just like the forest, the heathland and all of our beautiful ecosystems that we are all a vital part of.
One of the many things I cognitively experienced was the realisation of how the trees can feel, how the plants are aware of all who are in their presence and that that presence is all-pervading. Understanding their cyclic nature, they understand when there is danger and signal to any and all of this danger; they recognise kindness and will open up to all who resonate with kindness.
The more I visited the more the birds, bees, other insects, goannas, the occassional swamp wallaby, so shy, yet curious would come and say hello. The elder tree would also let me know when not to visit, she would say ‘not today, there will be another day.’ There was also on one occasion after exploring the land closest to her, where I turned before leaving gazing from tree to tree and said ‘I honour you, all of you,’ and as I went to walk away, I heard the forest say ‘’And we honour you also’ the feeling within me right at that moment is for me beyond words. But it was that sense of all is sacred, loving and all pervading in wisdom and kindness.
Since this experience, I have never been able to continue in the way conservation ecosystems management is currently implemented or bush regeneration, and in the field of horticulture and production nursery, I have honoured the request of the Elder of this coastal forest and begun to work and create with her directly, learning how to grow heathland and coastal forest plants the way the Elder is still teaching me to grow them. This is how Talulah was born: the native plant nursery that specialises in Australian bushfoods, that feeds the body, soothes my soul, and honours our deep interconnected nature.
Happy co-creating with nature🍃❤️
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