The Ceremony of the Trees - Part One

Over the last week or so I have felt an increasingly pressing need to do something for the trees where I used to live. It may seem an odd concept but I grew up with those trees, they were my friends. Over time I learnt their names; to work with them, to protect and ensure the safety of their woodland home.

The first tree you encounter as you enter the forest is The Sentinel, standing tall and proud, he looms towards the gateway, watching those that dare to pass through his domain. The path travels both sides of him and as in life you must choose which road on which to journey. When I worked there, it was usually with a tree further in, I always felt safe in the knowledge that he had my back and would warn me if someone intruded.

The place where I sit has a wonderful view up the river, though my photography does it little justice, in summer the Salmon here jump. Once while with my Partner an Otter came to play; my man was in the water when the otter dived in and headed straight for him. It was strangely scary after seeing films like Jaws, watching the movement through the water, as this small but speedy animal torpedoed towards him.

As I sit, in my solitude, I am not alone. The Moss is thick beneath my buttocks, and soft between my toes. He towers above me and I sense the depth of ancient wisdom at his heart. It is he that I seek to travel with, my protector, my champion, my guide; The Guardian of the Gates. His strength is my support and he holds me in his branches as I climb towards the Spirit world above...

When I've finished my workings, I visit with the Offering Tree; she has a deep hollow in her base, where I often leave food for local wildlife, along with tobacco, sage or crystals. This is where I give thanks...When I journey to the Lower World, this is where I come. Like Alice in Wonderland before me, I enter the darkness of the burrow and crawl down through her roots.

As you leave the woods two trees merge before you, they stand on the boundary, ever present, they are the watchers - The Sisters Wyrd... I've never really got close to them, their trunks stand high in the hedgerow, two grown from just one root. They feel like kin, ancestral ties...they remind me of the sisters of my own.