The Sitting Tree part 2

I went out today for a walk in search of the fresh and the new. It's spring, after all, and I desired a little lift for my soul. But aside from a smattering of daffodils and hyacinth, tucked close to houses along my route, what I found was decay and a landscape draped in shades of brown. Still. Walking along, I felt less than lifted, having only rust and chipping paint to interest my eye. Until I was beckoned by the Sitting Tree.

The Sitting Tree has massive, exposed roots that form a living sculpture suspended above the creek. The roots form a perfect seat with a secure foot rest. Naturally, the trunk curves to support one's back. In taking the invited seat, pleasantly perched above the rippling creek, I felt as if I was sitting in the lap of Mother Nature herself. I felt hugged and instantly restored.

I am aware of the healing power of Nature. Trees, especially well established ones, are the doctors and shamans of the earth. The Sitting Tree invited me to relax into its seat and let my troubles and tensions flow out of my body into its roots. It invited me to be at peace in its embrace, to listen to the calming gurgle of the water, to think of nothing.

The Sitting Tree said the landscape is still brown for me because it is not quite time to act, nor is it quite time to bloom. But the time is coming quickly and before the surge, rest is required. Balance is needful. Sorrows must be emptied into the earth.

I sat for a long time in the crook of Mother Nature. It was the first moments of deep peace since I'm not sure when. Just me and the tree, the water and wind, and a singular duck for good measure. I told the Sitting Tree I would be back. I thanked it for its gracious and timely invitation. On the walk back home my boots and bones felt less heavy. It must have been the new, little lift in my soul.