The inner tree

Alnus rhombifolia, methinks

When I moved to my previous home in Hercules, California, there were lots of alder trees in the condo complex. This included several right in front of my unit. I lived on the upper floor and looked out into lovely branches and foliage, as though I dwelt in a tree house.

I recognized alder trees because there lots of them near my dorm at UCLA back in the early 70s. Given the botanic garden just downhill from the dorm, we were treated to labels of the flora on campus. I rather took it as a sign that I should live there. I loved the trees, I talked to the trees, I prayed with the trees.
April 2002 was when I moved in. How I reveled in those trees. I even named my home "Los Alisos" (Spanish for "the Alders").

The following January I spent the night at a friend's house and came home the next day to see my beloved trees cut to the ground. There had been no prior warning. All I had were stumps and those were removed fairly quickly. (I was able to salvage one slice of one tree.)

Devastating.

I smudged the wounds in the earth where the trees had once been and sprinkled the spot with tobacco. (I don't smoke; it is for offerings to the seven directions and to the earth when I harvest.) I mourned.

Fortunately it was a period when I had been reading Buddhist materials and I was very conscious of the impermanence of all things. Lesson brought home, eh?

I concluded that the trees had blessed me for a while and that now it was time for me to cultivate my inner alder, the well-rooted and grace-bestowing tree within me.

While browsing photos on my computer I came across the ones above and thought it must be time to share this.

May your inner trees flourish and give fruit and shade to those around you.

Happy New Year!
--the BB