There was a tree stump I used to sit and think.
This wasn't one of those trees that people chop down because they are annoyed or chop down to get wood. This tree fell down in a storm and then the top was trimmed. The stump was overshadowed by an oak and an Asian sequoian red wood in the Ravine.
I liked that area of the forest. There were no sounds from the city, only a trickling stream and some birds nearby. I would sit on the stump and listen to the birds. Sometimes I would use that stump as a prayer stool.
In times of trouble I would kneel down. I would empty my mind of the present times and reflect on the age of the tree and the history that has passed through this forest. Each of these trees has a story. I listened and they spoke. Sometimes I would even speak out loud to the trees.
I was stressed out at the time. That evening I had a disagreement with my wife and suddenly stormed out of the house into the woods. When I got to the stump I sat down, I listened as usual. Everything was quiet. There were only a few magpie walking around and the sounds of wind blowing the leaves above me.
I decided it was time to talk to the heavens. I looked up and said,
"If you are out there then show me a sign.
Should I go back home and apologize to my wife?"
Then I heard a rattle and an acorn fell from the tree above me onto my head.
I looked up and a second and a third acorn fell in my face. I still wasn't sure if this was the sign.
I asked out loud:
"Do you want me to go back and apologize to her?"
Then I heard the voice from high above the tree:
"Squat-wat rumble watta kwak cat shuk."
Another acorn hit me in the face before I saw the light.
Why did I not listen to the voice from on high the first time?
I need to change my crooked ways and go home now.
So I penitently went home and told my wife that she was right and that I was sorry and I need to grow up and be responsible.
She listened to me and she said it was her fault and she was sorry for making it so difficult for me.
A little bit of nature had made me more humble and had given my wife time to cool off enough to welcome me and forgive me. She told me not to go off running in the woods suddenly without saying anything. She was worried about me.
I felt sorry that I made here worry and I knew that I shouldn't just go off running away any time I get upset. The next time I went out it wasn't because I was angry or upset. It was a regular time that I had to walk in the woods in the evening.
It was a perfect evening, the kind that dreams are made of. I walked over a pile of leaves just to hear them crunch. I just enjoyed the sounds and smells of nature. I said hello to the magpie as I passed the sequoia and came to the tree stump under the oak.
This was the life. Here is the place I got my message and heard the voice from above. Oh, who can decode the tongue of a thousand angels?
I am so small compared to the magnificent voice of nature. Who am I to complain about a thing? All of my fleeting moments of life are given only to give thanks for these plants, the trees and the creatures that roam through this forest. Surely every breath I have is a gift to me.
Then again another acorn hit me on the head. This time I had not even started praying. A second acorn came too fast. I wondered if the voice would follow and indeed that voice was calling from on high:
"Squat-wat rumble watta kwak cat shuk."
"Squat-wat rumble watta kwak cat shuk."
And two more acorns.
Now I could see where the voice on high was coming from. Just as Moses saw the bush on fire but never burning. I saw the branches of the tree moving and a little creature shaking its fists at me.
It was as if this creature were a real life Chip and Dale swearing at me and throwing acorns:
"Squat-wat rumble watta kwak cat shuk."
It must be saying:
"Get the #*@! off my tree stump."
in squirrel language because this guy wanted me gone.
I had no idea that this had been his tree before the storm and he was so attached to it. I figured the best way to help this guy was to stay off his tree stump.
How would you like it if people had knocked down your house and then every evening some guy comes to sit on the wreckage thinking this is place a nice spot for meditation?
"Squat-wat rumble watta kwak cat shuk."
This humbling nonfiction story was written by me 
