How Trees Changed My Psyche
How Trees Can Take Away Fear and Increase Acceptance
This is the photo of the same trees at approximately the same time of day that my nagging anxiety and fear began to be dealt with by, perhaps oddly to some people, by the trees. Simply talking to them and considering their point of view gave me warmth and reassurance. They flooded me with the sensation that everything, literally everything including death or the the most miserable possibilities I conjured but would probably never face, were all handled and ok. I’ll explain.
For 60 years I had been afraid of the dark. Really I was afraid of the unknown, the unmanageable. The pivotal event occurred in 2018, six years after I had bought a small 80 acre ranch on the south side of the Red River in North Central Texas. It was never my idea to buy or own land. My son had convinced me that it was his dream and that together we would create a place of peace, serenity and “magic” that would be a legacy if we would simply buy a brush cloaked and choked parcel of trees, creeks, rocks, snakes and poison ivy in the hills carved along the breaks of the river. I had spent 6 years. First working the ranch on weekends and now living on the land. My son had been dead a year.
One of the things the wildlife biologist I hired had taught me to do was create “savannas”. Savannas are layered mixtures of clearing (grass and flowers), edge brush and healthy forest. He pointed out that not only did everything — soil, water, insects, native grasses and flowers and the animals want “layers” and “diversity” that used to be created by natural wildfires — he also pointed out the starving and emaciated trees crowded too thick. After a few trials with cheap chain saws I bought a good one and a quality tractor and went to work. Having a nature preserve means anything but letting the land “go natural”. All “natural” means to most people is doing nothing which is actually neglect and a recipe for sterile stifled acreage. Humans have moved in and key checks and balances such as natural wildfires, species diminished by man’s brutality of guns, herbicide, plows and cattle and rainfall unequal because of runoff from developed areas … on and on … means a lot of money and work to restore natural abundance, diversity and balance.
I had spent the day clearing and thinning trees. It was dusk, almost dark, and I was in the midst of the area with shadows growing long and ominous and the night creatures rustling the undergrowth. I was tired, scratched, bleeding, insect bitten and at the point of exhaustion and exasperation. I let go, I was ready to die where I stood. I spoke, actually yelled at the surrounding forest, “I am trying to keep you from staving each other. I want your health, your oxygen, I trying to rebalance and make you healthy and beautiful.” They answered back.
“Yes, we know. We have been here long before you came. The linage of of our ancestors are carried within us. Your kind came, the white man. You didn’t listen or care, we were nothing to you. You ignored our oneness and neglected us. We did our best, rooted and grounded, watching everything. The wisest among us, the oak, assured us. The elm and blackjack grew rebellious. The cedar came and exploited your invasion but we accepted them as family. We miss the grooming, grasses, flowers but most of all we miss being seen and honored by real humans. Everything is ok. We will embrace you. Try your best and don’t be afraid the earth is our home and she will guide all of us through everything.”
I thought I had lost my mind. I sat down and let it get dark. I watched possums and raccoons wander out. A coyote came by and I howled at her and she ran half mile a way and howled there is a crazy man out here. The moon came up. We all were bathed in moonlight. Fireflies appeared like a psychedelic trip. I remembered I was tired and aching. I got up and walked home in the dark fulfilled and unafraid and slept soundly.
