Here is Home, the Wild Home
Day 42 of my tree puja.
Spring is an energy moving through the garden, its air, soil and mind.
I went to the tree, and held her flowers to my face, burying my nose, eyes, mouth, appearance in the petals…
Then Zoomed Past a Car
Day 38 of my tree puja. Nestled in nature, I am disturbed by a passing car, an industrial invasion clashing with the blossom universe unfolding around me.
The flowers are very relaxed, just hanging there in mid-air, waiting for visitors on the wing...
The Throb of Life
Day 35 of my tree puja. Now the tree is awakening, the festival of colour begins, and I am simply present.
I feel the rain, I hear the birds of dawn, the breeze doing its rounds, I see the lush masses of leaves and flowers all around and I crouch there, part of it, nothing more, nothing less...
I listened, sound by sound
Day 22 of my tree puja. The tree stands within the activity of air.
I heard the sounds of dawn and tried to imagine not hearing them but experiencing their vibrations, as the tree does and as we do too.
I knew that something had changed
Day 21 of my tree puja. Sensing shifts in the tree’s energy according to the seasons was a remarkable aspect of the tree puja. Our urban, house-dwelling lives have desensitised us to this subtle knowledge. Reconnection comes with the routine of ritual.
And I knew that the tree was preparing for Spring, that its blood was starting to flow and its buds to swell.
Trees wear no shoes
Day 2 of my tree puja journal. There is always an insight, a moment of truth and peace.
I looked up at the remaining leaves against the last of the night sky. A little breeze came, and the leaves and the breeze had a morning conversation. They talk in whispers and movement, through touch…