Hiking through the redwoods in Tamalpais State Park, I slipped off trail for a bit of quiet. There weren't many other hikers on this spur, a bit unusual for a Saturday. Tired from a long night at my desk and winded from the upward-facing trail, I wound my way through the grove and sat against the biggest trunk in the area, my back settling against its deeply ridged surface.
I'll just meditate for a bit, I mused, sinking in to the quiet of the grove. The weather not too hot nor too cold with just the right abmount of breeze, away off in the treetops far above me. Comfy, I thought to myself as I dissolved into silence.
Apart from the typical afternoon noises of a redwood forest, there was only quiet. I looked with my inner sight and watched as the ground beneath me became transparent. I could see into and thorugh the earth under the trees. Huge taproots hurtled downward from every trunk, the other roots flowing not far beneath the surface, intertwined and woven together. They formed a web that was clearly communicating. I could feel information moving through it.
"Oh, what a beautiful community," I sent into this amazing tangle. " May I... Might I be welcomed in?"
I felt the laughter before I heard it. Deep gentle chuckles rippling through the interlacings of growth.
"You need no welcome." The words framed the feeling. "You have always been a part of this. It is you and your kind who have forgotten."
I opened my eyes at that, seeing the grove in its physical form, the trunks, the fallen members, the new growth shooting for the sky.
"I..."
"Sshh. Be at peace and be one with us." And with that I felt their connections, the memories held within this circuit that was as old as time.
I meditated until my folded legs cried out their stiffness and, thanking the trees for their comfort and company, I took the trail down the mountain and home.
Back at my computer that evening, I researched the coastal redwoods. I hadn't known until then that the grove functions as whole. Different individual trees take on different functions. The tallest bring in the most light. Those on the periphery absorb from the wind and the air. The canopy holds the rain, gently channeling their primary source of moisture down and into the grove where it finally reaches the roots.
The taproot of each trunk digs deep for nourishment. The rest of the roots weave together, forming a whole that wind and water, even seismic activity cannot topple. It is almost impossible to cut down a single redwood tree without severing its trunk from its roots, the grove is so tightly woven togther.
I have always loved the feeling of the roots woven deep beneath the trees where I walk or hike or sit and wonder.
This morning I wandered out to a neraby birch grove, watching the tail of the sunrise draping its fresh new colors through branches almost bare of leaves now. The energies spiraling inward, preparing for snow. Without thinking, I thanked the grove for giving me permission to enter and for sheltering me as I readied myself for the day.
"Had you forgotten?" came the laughter as the branches began to sway. I thought a question mark in its direction and was answered by a single phrase.
"The redwoods send you greetings. " I had forgotten that mediation and that day. Yet the vision I was shown through the birches was fresh and green, projected through the root systems on a wave of love and joy.
In this vision the redwood forest was intact, no fire damage, no beetle kill, as pure and clean as when I sat there on that long ago afternoon. This morning, the birches showed me their root cloud, organized differently, connected just the same.
As a child I was taught a seeing song ~
"We stand on the same earth. We breathe the same atmosphere, the root systems connect us all."
When what was has fallen down and begun to rot away, something new will have already grown in its place.