Tree Calling

A Flow Day. Nothing scheduled other than Baptism. Drum and I went out early to be under our Drum Tree. I took clippers to cut back ivy that’s creeping up its base. There’s a tall tree across the field that caught my eye last year. I’ve wanted to venture there and did so today—step by step clipping back nettles and blackberry stalks. The slow journey across the overgrown field felt epic, as in The Heroine’s Journey.  

Approaching the tree I saw white plastic six feet up the trunk that was, at one time, a shelter. There was clothing, a bag of rusted tools and tarps. The dark hummus underfoot was thick and the scents earthy. Oh, I remember! A tiny green frog kept an eye on me. The tree and camp reminded me of my childhood camps and that I would spend all day there until it was time for dinner. I’m going to haul out the debris to give the tree more breathing room. As of Now, in this overcast day, my Baptism is of Earth. Fire may wait. But wait! My hand is feeling fire from all the nettle kisses!

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