Singing to Trees in England

In July I was taken to a lovely grove of apple trees on a dragon line in the tiny village of Mortiford near the cathedral town of Hereford.
Many of the trunks were twisted and some had hollows in the trunk. One was big enough for me to go inside and feel the energy of the trees in a very different way.


My friend Georgina and I sang into the hollows, listening into the whirls of the wood and hearing harmonics ring through our voices.

Apple trees are sacred to many goddesses, including Aphrodite, Diana and Venus. If you slice an apple in half the pentagram, an ancient symbol of magical protection is revealed. We wondered whether the twisted bark was partly due to being on a ley line.

One tree had fallen but apples were still growing from some of the branches. I was lucky that Georgina knew of this place, off the tourist map, one of the places she goes to walk and sing and listen to the land.

Many sacred sites, like this one, are in our own backyards and are waiting for us to honor them. Do you have a special place in nature that you go to for guidance? What messages have you been given?

Tree Singer

I met author, adventurer, singer Robin Easton when I lived in New Mexico. We spoke and sang in her Santa Fe home about singing to the earth. Robin lived in Australia, near both the tropical rainforests of Queensland and the subtropical rainforests of New South Wales. She has written a book about her experiences called Naked in Eden currently seeking publication about the many wonders and lessons she learned living in nature. I interviewed Robin for my book and this is what she had to say about her experience of sounding grief giving way to hearing and singing the song of the land: "One day as Robin sang, she sensed the vibration of the green world becoming part of her. Everything was orbiting with sound. Suddenly she felt safer here than anywhere on earth. She looked a poisonous snake in the eye and became the snake. She watched ants dragging off a bandicoot , saw a python going after a bush lark, and watched the lark give its life to protect its nest. She saw that the life force is so in love with itself that it consumes itself to create more love. She heard the dream voice of a tree speak to her. She felt the trees as protrusions of the earth, their arms in exaltation worshiping the heavens. Each tree with a different sound, the forest was a full bodied choir of angels reaching to the stars to pull their song into the earth." From Sacred Space-Sacred Sound: The Acoustic Mysteries of Holy Places

Robin shares a few pictures and comments from
Australian trees.:
"The Strangler Fig: A fruit-eating bird eats the fig, and defecates the seeds high in the fork of a tree where they germinate. A new seedling sends roots downward, wrapped around the trunk of its host and through the air to the ground. The roots rapidly grow thick and become well established in the soil.Soon the host tree is encased in a latticework of strong woody roots, some as fine as my fingers and others as large as my thigh. I’ve seen Strangler’s roots that looked like human arms wrapped around their lover, one tree embraced by another. It’s a deceptively loving embrace, one that brings eventual death to the host. The crown of the fig grows rapidly to keep pace with its roots and eventually overshadows its victim’s crown. With its light cut off and strangled by a web of roots the once healthy host-tree slowly dies and rots away to become fodder for other life."

"Ghost Gum" trees in New South Wales Australia.
"Ghost Gum was the name I was
given while doing martial arts. I walked into the
this grove of trees and sang just to listen to my
voice echo off the tall white pillars. These trees
along with Pine tree are my favorite tree in the
world. Sometimes at night if there was a full moon I
would walk into a grove of these trees and sit and
be with them because they reminded me of illuminated ghosts."

To learn more about Robin and her book go to her website at www.nakedineden.com

Can you hear the trees sing? Do you sing back? What stories do you have to share?

Singing with Children and Trees

The synchronicity of singing with trees has continued over the past few days when I was invited to the Botanical Gardens of Asheville to tell a story and sing in a gazebo to a group of 8 year olds from Chris Weaver's Third grade class at Evergreen Charter School. Earlier I had walked through the gardens among birch, locust, linden, oak, ash, buckeye sweet gum and hemlock trees getting to know my new neighbors. When the class arrived we sat in a circle in the gazebo and I told a pueblo story of the rain god falling asleep on the mountain. Like my previous home of New Mexico, North Carolina has been experiencing a drought. Together we made the sounds of frogs and locusts singing to the rain god to wake him up so he would remember his duty. We then sang rain and rainbow songs as we danced.

Towards the end of my time with the children, Chris asked if we could sing to a nearby Hemlock tree. He told me that the eastern and Carolina hemlock trees, some of them as old as 400 years, are dying due to an infestation of a tiny insect called the Hemlock Woolly Adelgid which covers the base of the needles with a white waxy wool. Chris's class has been studying the trees and learning about how to care for them. The class is purchasing some non-native beetles which eat the insect and learning other ways to protect and heal the trees.

I told the class that the sound "Ah" is the sound related to the heart. It is the sound of love, the sound we feel when we see something beautiful and also the sound of concern when we witness suffering. Together we circled the tree as seventeen pairs of child hands touched its truck and together we toned "Ah." The children looked up at the branches of the tree, some had their eyes closed. Our voices rose under the protective limbs of the tree. Did we make a difference in the health of the hemlock? I don't know. But I do know we our shared awe with nature and experienced a moment of reverence and deepening relationship with an ancient tree. Elders and children need each other and can learn from each other. We came to silence and stood still touching the tree with our hands. Then the class gathered up their things to leave. Several children came over to hug me. Another girl ran up, looked me in the eyes with a grin, sang "Ah!" and then ran away giggling. Magic continued to sing in my heart.

For more information about what you can do go to www.saveourhemlocks.org















Cooper Beech tree at Wave Hill in New York City

Singing to Trees

Trees have been speaking to me lately, whispering their secrets and singing their songs. During this past year of travel many have become my friends, including a copper beech tree at Tewkesbury Abbey in England. Five years ago, when I first visited Tewkesbury, I didn't know its name. I stood on the sidewalk and asked many passers-by and no one knew. Finally a man told me it was a copper beech. I circled the tree and saw the many faces and shapes revealed in its trunk and branches.

I thought of other trees I had circled in the past including an 800 year old alligator juniper tree in the Cibola National Forest that I called Grandma. When I lived in Sandia Park, New Mexico going to visit Grandma was like going to church. "I sang into the crevices of her bark and offered cornmeal. I heard Grandma sing through the throats of the flowery Indian Paintbrush that grew under her skirts. When I moved to another town saying goodbye to Grandma was hard. I stood under her with my bare feet. Asking if she had a message, I saw a shining being, like light on pine needles. This being was cloaked in green. She asked me to sing, to be a messenger, to speak my love of the forest. In my vision, she placed a wreath of pine cones and wildflowers on my head. Afterward, when I opened my eyes, I looked down and saw at my feet a heart-shaped rock." From Sacred Space-Sacred Sound

When I arrived in Atlanta in March 2007 I did a series of talks based upon my book Sacred Space-Sacred Sound: The Acoustic Mysteries of Holy Places. In addition I offered private voice sessions and astrology readings. A woman asked me if I would do a session in her home. She said, "this might sound strange, but would you sing to the Sugar Maple tree in front of the house. My grandmother gave it to me as a housewarming present many years ago and the tree is dying." We went outside and circled the tree and as we lovingly touched its branches I sang to the tree the despair and love we both felt.

All over the world trees are dying through drought, acid rain and infestation of beetles and other insects. From Cottonwood trees along the Rio Grande to Sugar Maple trees in Atlanta, the trees need our songs.

Are the tree spirits leaving as we cut down forests and forget to sing to them? As I was writing this post a lovely synchronicity happened. A friend sent me this link to watch and listen to her Australian friend Roz singing a song called The Spirit of the Tree.
Go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6keLZMqq2n8#GU5U2spHI_4

Photo by Georgemarc Schevene
georgemarc.typepad.com

Orbs

Here it is again, that blue orb down the road from the waterfall. Is it the same one? Did it follow me? Ever since I've been in North Carolina people have been showing me pictures they've taken in the mountains loaded with tiny orbs dancing like diadems in the air.

On my travels many people took pictures for me and many of them have orbs. But curiously they appeared at special moments. In Egypt they were there when the group I was with was singing or meditating in sacred sites.




In France they appeared on Midsummers Eve as the village of Soreze danced around a gigantic bonfire.

I've heard that orbs are fairies. What do you think they are?

Songkeeper arrives in Asheville

Ever since I was a child I have been a keeper of songs. My mother said I sang before I talked. At 3 I loved going up on the church stage to sing in a high falsetto voice and remember knowing all the words to the Wayward Wind when I was 5. I remember words and melodies easily and hear music sing through me.

In New Mexico, where I lived for 23 years, I sang the song of the red rocks and heard Kokopelli's voice on the mesa and followed in this ancient troubadours footsteps to travel and carry my songseeds with me.

After a full year of travel I have arrived in Asheville, North Carolina and am being tuned by the Blue Ridge Mountains, the chorus of robins, cardinals and spring peepers that serenade me from my window. The vibrational energy of these mountains is strong, as the land underneath my feet is a matrix of quartz, sapphire and ruby. My dreams have intensified here. I am no longer in the wide open spaces with 360 degree views but in the soft embrace of the green hills and blue mountains. This picture shows me singing at a nearby waterfall and a blue orb has joined me. This is a place where people still believe in and see fairies and nature spirits. I am new here and learning to listen and create new words and music from the magic of these mountains.

Each place on the earth has its own vibrational signature. What does it sound like where you live? How does the song of the land affect the way you live?