Whispers From the Trees: A Love Song to the Earth

By Penny Reed

All day, I noticed the pull from the forest. Its sweet smells and hidden mysteries haunting my thoughts and tugging on my soul.

I committed to listening no matter what the day would bring forward. As I was preparing to leave, my drum called out to come along. I gathered them up and set out. It was near dusk by the time I started my walk. The sun hung low on the skyline, and a kaleidoscope of colours danced across the skies. The meadow was overflowing with the sounds of crickets, and the air was heavily perfumed by the abundance of Queen Anne’s Lace and carpet thyme, which curiously blanketed the ground in this parcel. I stopped to take in the delicate blossoms of the flowering carrot perched on a sturdy umbrella framework. I imagined myself as a tiny bee rolling around in what felt like a fluffy cloud of heavenly nectar. I noticed that as the blossoms faded, they began to curl up, forming what looked like a tiny bird's nest — a perfect sanctuary for little creatures. I inspected one closely and discovered that it was an ideal hideaway for tiny ones, as nestled inside was a beetle. I left offerings to this magical place and continued to my sacred enclave. 

Upon arrival at my altar, I noticed a large turkey feather. I smiled as I thought of a turkey or a human leaving an offering.

A potential noticing of the sacredness and love poured into the land like a seed germinating and taking root.

I set my intentions, made offerings, sang songs, and continued my journey. I came across the old apple tree that lives at a fork in the path. One direction takes you into the woods and another into another meadow. I stood there noticing the developing apples and how some had already begun to fall, highlighting the whispers of autumn. The change has revealed itself in the shorter days, cooler nights and the ripening of my tomatoes, but somehow, the apples locked in the season and the turning of the great wheel. I tuned into the land and asked where my feet needed to go. To my surprise, the path to the meadow called. 

The Canadian shield is very present in this space, and it often looks more like a tundra than a meadow.

I stop to touch the skin of the Great Mother and thank her for her beauty.

Usually, the ground crunches beneath each step this time of year, but high rainfall has kept it lush, and spring vernal pools are still present and whole. The sun is much lower now, and the sky has erupted into deeper hues, signalling its final descent. A rustle in a nearby tree grabs my attention. I look up to see three large turkeys rousting in a tree. Their immense size makes them look slightly awkward in the tree, and their perching feels precarious at best. Just then, I feel my drum nudge me. I listened and carefully pulled them out. I faced into the setting sun with the rousting turkeys to my right and began a slow and steady beat. I allowed my feet to grow roots and travel deep into the earth. I allowed my branches to spring forth from the crown, touching into the sky. I surrendered my body to the drum and just allowed sound to emerge. I turned off my mind and allowed my heart to take the wheel.

What came through felt like a sweet love song to the earth. 

When drum had completed their songs to the Earth, I opened my eyes and noticed that the sun had dipped below the horizon, and a blanket of delicate darkness had covered the landscape. The first stars were pushing through, and a stillness had descended. I gave thanks, left offerings and gently tucked drum away. As I began to move from this space, I noticed several large turkey wing and tail feathers. I looked at the rousting beauties and thanked them as I collected their offerings. The darkness does not bother me; admittedly, it excites me. I continued my walk and consciously chose not to use the headlamp tucked away in my bag. I asked my feet to remember the way. They know these trials in ways that I do not. I asked eyes to see when there was no light, and I asked forest to carry me through. I asked for song to come through (I have a habit of singing to myself when walking in the forest at night in hopes that my song will notify all forest beings of my presence and intention). The Night, as we know, is technically their time, especially in the Green Belt, a time when humans are generally not galavanting about in their spaces. I stepped from the open spaces of the meadow into the intimate, lush, deep darkness of the forest. 

I paused as my senses adjusted to the new environment. I hadn’t walked this particular trial in a while and was surprised at how the foliage arched gracefully into and over the path. I moved slowly, gently brushing past the tender new growth. I noticed how different the woods felt at night and how different I felt in the forest at night. I tuned into the plants and felt their rhythm. I joined in with the great exhale. Soaking in the oxygen-rich air that is the gift of their breath. I found myself in a cedar grove nestled along the edge of a big pond. I could feel many eyes upon me, and a shiver coursed through my body. A large Maple stood on the grove's edge, cradled by massive stones. I felt called to stand with this tree. Once next to this majestic beauty, I threw my arms around her and sunk deeply into their bark. I felt shielded, as if wrapped in a cloak of invisibility. Movement began all around me. I heard sounds from the water's edge, rustling in the treetops and scurrying along the forest floor. I kept still and fell deeper into the embrace with Maple. I squelched my desire to look, run, and be afraid of the unknown. I surrendered to trusting I was safe and held. I slowed my breathing and sunk deeper into myself and the land. I felt as if Maple had grown arms and pulled me in closer. Just then, I heard her whisper.

“Know your Self. Trust your Knowing. Celebrate your Journey.” 

I then became aware of myself from an observer's perspective. I saw myself holding onto this great tree with drum on my back and gifted feathers in my hands in the forest's darkness on a Monday night. Tiny electric rivers entered my consciousness as I imagined what others might think of me if they saw me at this moment. To my surprise, their observations did not affect me; they drew me closer to a truth I hadn’t yet crystallized within myself.

All the paths that led me to this moment had originated when I simply decided to listen to the whispers of my heart.

My mind has always been in the driver's seat, and I was merely curious about what might be different if I let my heart take the wheel. As the wisdom from Maple resonated deeper into my being, I became more aware of the abundance in my life and the gifts I have received, the biggest being a profound acceptance of myself. Tears of gratitude streamed down my cheeks and poured onto the bark. I felt our embrace deepen and merge like a river meeting the ocean.

Time stood still in this place, and I surrendered to the great flow.

A cry from a barred owl brought me back, and I noticed a stiffness in my body. I thanked Maple for her presence. I released from our embrace and left offerings at her feet. I collected myself and tuned back into the landscape. Beyond the Maple, I could see a clearing and felt drawn to the open sky. I climbed over the large stones, noticed their ancient songs, and stepped into another prominent meadow. The open space and the starry sky brought great expanse into my perspective. I breathed in the vastness. Just then, a meteor shot across the sky.

Gifts from the sky.

I allowed abundance to move through me. I asked abundance to take root. I sweetly asked scarcity to leave and return to where it came from, honouring its source as a drive to “be prepared.” Honouring myself, knowing that I’m ready - come what may. 

Returning to the parking lot, I noticed a more profound contentment. I had a renewed sense of trust in myself, a fortified connection with my place in the tapestry of life, a knowing that needs no validation or verification, a gratitude that sees each step, each breath, and each moment as a blessing, a sacredness that views all as holy.

The image of the Buddha sitting under the dodhi tree came in, and the sound of creation, of ohm, washed over.

A friend had recently asked, “What is the number one thing holding you back from reaching your highest potential?” My answer was “Myself.” I struggled to articulate what this direct and assured response meant at the time, but at that moment, it became clear. Our own beliefs, thoughts, and behaviours shape our reality. We bring awareness and allow for transformation by questioning these parts of ourselves and the commitment to “try on” different ways. It is in the essence of “I wonder” that possibility lives. The simple yet profound act of accepting and letting it be so has brought immense healing and magic into my life. I’ve read dozens of books and taken endless workshops to find what was always there for me - waiting to be remembered. That we have a choice in how we perceive and experience the world.

Discover what lights you up, what nourishes your soul, and cultivate and honour it. Honour where you’ve been and where you are. Celebrate your uniqueness, trust in your divinity, and remember the blessings and abundance that surround you. 

Walking With You Always, Penny

Penny hosts Human Design readings and Sacred Herbs workshops. Check out her offerings on our website.