The garbage truck

Roadside rubbish in Karnataka, India, which is occasionally burned on site, producing toxic smoke.

29th March, 2010

The garbage truck came along in the still, silent dark.

The tree wanted me to stay a little longer, to come under its branches and stay. I felt my own energy contract and recoil from the harsh, industrial noises and actions. The energy of the tree contracted and recoiled, as did all the other things in the vicinity. So, I waited there awhile, keeping them company in the shattered sacred quiet.

I felt the importance of my human consciousness to the tree, which knows me now. There seems to be more of a blending now, so that when I come into her space, she receives me without reservation and in the natural course of things, wanting me even, desiring what I bring and what I am.

I looked at her gracious stillness as the truck clattered and clanked past us.