slowly at first, begins to lean. Others have said that they sometimes hear a sound like a shrieking cry at the point that a great tree starts to fall.
When she looks up at old growth trees that are still standing, Joan thinks about him and what he willingly did. I like how she described the young activists whose efforts would be only partially successful: “They stand . . . with the majesty of old-growth redwoods . . . straight and tall like the few stands of old growth that still remain” (From the Redwood Forest, 1998, p. 4).
The Tree Sitter and the Passerby
On Vancouver Island, in June 2010, Hilary Huntley, a young Canadian artist, suddenly became a tree activist when she learned that three majestic Garry oaks (Quercus garryana) were to be cut down for a sports field and took immediate personal action. She climbed into one of them, determined to thwart the tree cutters, and became the center of a spontaneous community effort to save them. A day after Hilary climbed into her perch, Clare Peterson was taking a morning walk on a trail nearby when she heard a loud voice calling “Hello!” Clare looked around, didn't see anyone, but responded with a hello right back. The voice said, “Over here!” which took her to the foot of the giant Garry oak and to Hilary, who said, “Did you know that they are planning to cut down this tree on Tuesday morning? They will have to take me with it. I'm staying right here and am not moving.”
Clare told me that as she walked away, she asked herself, “Why would I get involved? What could I do?” And as she wondered, “What would I sit up in a tree for?” she suddenly heard herself say, “I must support any woman who will sit in a tree for what she believes.” Energized now, she tapped into her organizing abilities, and networks that were already in place went into action. A tree vigil formed. Everyone did her bit, from phoning powers that be and the baseball clubs, to bombarding city council members with emails and phone calls, to alerting local media that covered the story. A ten-year-old girl was told by her mother to skip school to be with the tree people and learn something. Four days later, the trees were saved. Hilary stayed in the tree until the mayor called her on her cell phone saying the trees would be preserved. “Great!” she said. “Once I have it in writing, I will get down.” The official document was delivered within an hour. And, since a phone tree had been organized, “The trees are saved!” went out all over the valley, very quickly.
After it was over and Hilary came down from the tree, Clare, who is a Millionth Circle convener who with Anne Caldwell and others organized Gather the Women–Canada, wrote, “One of the most valuable things I saw was that everyone who gets involved and is present to the actual event notices how each person holds a piece of the solution. Passion brings people out and that passion ensures that each particular skill contributes to the resolution . . . rather like Circle Principles!”
Once the people in the town of Duncan became informed about plans to cut down these Garry oaks—which they did because of Hilary, Clare, and many others—people who learned and cared about saving the trees swung into action; this was an intergenerational effort. As a consequence, there is more community awareness about trees with the hope of a tree-preservation bylaw becoming adopted. In Canada, Garry oaks grow only in southeastern Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands, with some isolated trees elsewhere. The Garry oak was named by botanist and explorer David Douglas for Nicholas Garry of the Hudson's Bay Company, who helped him during his travels.
Tree preservation consciousness is needed to save trees, especially when new owners purchase property with the intent to clear and build, with no regard for the old and beautiful trees that are there. Soon after I heard from Clare, for example, I learned from Patricia Damery, a Jungian analyst in Napa Valley, California, that new owners might clear a hilltop area with a ring of huge valley oaks in a large circle and other landmarks to plant vineyards. This land has been used for rituals and is sacred space for her and quite possibly was used as such when indigenous tribes lived there. The challenge is to approach owners in the same spirit as did the tree people in Canada, without rage or blame, and mobilize the concern of the community for its special trees, possibly with the added American incentive that if land and trees such as these are donated to a land trust, there can be tax benefits. Intergenerational activism may be required to protect the trees while agreements to save them can be worked out. Tree sitting and consequent media attention are done by young adult activists who are aware that once trees are cut down, the conversation is over, while mature, established citizen-taxpayer tree people are the ones that have political influence, especially locally, which is where tree issues are settled.
The Nature Speaks Project
Linda Milks became a tree activist after she received what she calls her mission in life as a communication from trees that she took to heart. She is the founder of the Nature Speaks Project. On a beautiful, sunny day in 1999, she was enjoying a drive on winding roads through the trees and hills in Marin County, north of San Francisco, when “I began to notice an organized thought form come into my awareness.” It was an unusual experience for her. When it persisted, she pulled over to the side of the road to focus on the specific, telepathic communication she was receiving. She says, “I simply knew this was coming from Trees. My experience was one of listening to something coming from outside of myself and not a thought coming from within. I had no doubt that Tree consciousness was ‘speaking.’ They wanted a bridge of understanding between trees and humans.” At the time, Linda felt the message was specifically for her, but since then, she has come to believe that it was more like an all-points bulletin, and she was one of the humans who responded. She says that at that moment, she knew that she would answer the call and that her own growth would be tied directly to this work.
This is inner knowledge, or gnosis—the certainty that people feel when they respond from deep recognition or know the significance of the choice they are making, while not knowing where it will lead and that others are likely not to understand. Yet for those with such certainty and courage to trust, the promise is that this is an authentic and meaningful choice, chosen by soul rather than ego. So the Nature Speaks Project began with Linda's idea that she would interview people who could speak with trees to record their stories.
One of the stories in the website collection (Nature Speaks Project) is Linda's own: When she was nine and lived in Lake Jackson, Texas, she took an axe to cut down a small tree. The trunk was probably about six inches in diameter, the tree ten to twelve feet tall. She approached the tree feeling powerful and excited. Then she swung the ax and made a cut into the tree. Something felt wrong; she felt she was hurting someone and shouldn't be doing this. Her reaction didn't feel rational, so she made a second cut, and at that point, she received a telepathic communication, the tone of which was “that of a wise, patient, and compassionate grandfather and it consisted mainly of questions.” Such ones as she remembers had to do with why she wanted to cut down the tree, didn't she realize it was a living being, other trees and animals liked having this tree here, why would she want to hurt the tree and take its life away? She went back to the house to ask her mother about trees and if they could feel, and was told, “No, trees don't feel anything. You can cut it down if you want to.” In Linda's own experience, however, she knew that her mother was wrong and that she had hurt a living, feeling being. This was her only childhood recollection of communications from trees. Forty years passed before she pulled over to the side of the road in Marin, and listened to what the Trees had to say to her.
Often significant memories of non-ordinary reality or active imagination that many people had as children fade, are forgotten, or if the child spoke of them and was made to feel ashamed, the memory becomes associated with pain and is suppressed. It is this very facility—to be psychic, mystic, attuned to energy, or transmissions of feelings or sensations, sometimes images, or intuitive impressions—that can connect adults with Nature and their own authentic nature, at a time when the fate of the planet depends on humans feeling these connections.
Still-Standing Ancient Trees
