The Hedge Druid

“Tale Man tell me what’s wrong with my life, am I only here to question? No, sir, you are undoubtedly here to cajole and make suggestions.” {Julian Cope – “These Things I Know” – ‘Black Sheep’ album)

At least the rain had stopped. I parked outside my new favourite wood, whose location, if you don’t mind, I won’t reveal by name. It’s one of the most beautiful places I know, so it seemed the most receptive to the kind of work I intended to do. Tonight, close to midnight, I wanted to commune with the wood after conquering my inevitable fear of being alone in the dark. “Fear?” I hear you scoff. Oh, really? Please be my guest to go and try it in a wood near you! Anyway – take my word for it – at the very least its a proposition to make your hackles react.

I had been watching TV whilst eating my tea – more staring at it than watching it, really. On screen was a beautiful cedar tree which had been mutilated by a cowboy who dared to call himself “tree surgeon”. In the same show was the tale of a wood-chipping firm in Essex who pulped tree remains. Messages and hints were starting to appear, but I was even more determined now to go and make contact, if only to apologise for the horrific atrocities that our kind inflicts upon those they don’t appreciate!

Anyway – soon I walked to the main entrance to the wood and stopped. I knew there was a well-trodden path there somewhere but I couldn’t see it! I couldn’t see more than five feet ahead while my eyes were trying desperately to adjust from light to darkness. I felt a wave of fear…”what was that noise?”, “what’s that dark shape?”. My brain went into panic mode and I wrestled with it, assuring my rational grumblings that I had a purpose to this, and it would just have to shut up and go with it. Easier said than done, however!

I had a trick up my sleeve though – a shaman’s trick for when the rush of the psychedelics overtakes reason and engenders fear. All evening I had been listening to Julian Cope’s new album “Black Sheep” which contains a good few memorable ditties with amusing lyrics. Just the job to rally my intention on a damp, dark and uncertain night in a forest! I started singing in my head and humming gently too.

“These things I know: sometimes we must leave the city. These things I know: your verse may lie if your chorus is pretty.” {Julian Cope – “These Things I Know” – ‘Black Sheep’ album)

I stepped into the blackness slowly with a half-smile and oozing pleasant vibes. As I hummed I chatted in my head about my reasons for disturbing the trees that night. I replayed the thought about wanting to gain knowledge, to become comfortable in the company of tress at all times and seasons, and just because I enjoyed their company. I started to develop an air of pleasance when light shapes began to crowd my peripheral vision. “What was that?” “Is someone there?” I flinched.

I picked my way slowly along the path, one slow step after another until I came to a point where the trees opened out to reveal the night sky. I stopped to look at the stars and to calm down. I tried to ‘zone out’ the rustlings, the drippings and the swooshing noises. “That is all part of the night and the trees.” I told myself. My reason was beginning to give up this senseless fight to flee the wood.

I waited until I could feel my eyes swim a little. Good, I was relaxing now! Geeeerrrrraaaaarrrrrrggghhhh – a plane was descending overhead on its way to Liverpool Airport. I felt the trees “bristle” with annoyance, and listened to them shake their branches at this buzzing wasp, splattering raindrops all around, including one on the back of my head – right on the top! I laughed. “Yes, it’s our doing, but with the current recession they may not be as frequent soon.” I proferred as condolence.

I felt more comfortable now and my eyes were getting accustomed to the lack of light and were compensating to brighten everything up. I could make out the path now, so began to walk on. Why not? All around were only small trees, and I wanted to speak to a larger one. Five paces later I was standing ten feet in front of a very tall but slender oak tree. Yes, I’ve been practising my tree recognition, and could tell even in the dark. “I-Spy” points for me! I lit a small roll-up cigarette while contemplating my next move – dare I go on? Dare I approach? What if I get nothing – nothing at all? How will I feel then? What if…shhhhhh. Inhale! Relax. Aaargh – the light from my lighter nearly blinded me!

I had had several “knock backs” from large oak trees in the past, but I wanted to try again. I walked slowly forwards asking to find the edge of the tree’s nemeton with my hands. I felt it in my stomach first though, and retreated a few steps to make sure I was right. Yep – here it was – the outer moat, if you will, the ‘motte’. I stopped and paid my respects, again going through my intentions and purpose, and asking as nicely as I could for a chance to commune. “May I enter your space?” I asked. A slight push back against me. I hesitated in moving forward, so I asked again. Same response.

It was the cigarette! It didn’t like it being close. I felt that was the situation, so I retreated back down the path and ditched it before returning to try again. A little chastened I approached again feeling for the outer nemeton. This time when I asked I got admittance straight away and stepped towards the tree. I was two paces away from the trunk when my stomach hit a brick wall and knotted! There was an inner nemeton! And I had not been admitted to this part yet. I stopped and thought of how to continue. I re-stated my intentions of seeking knowledge, paid some compliments to the tree, suggested we could both benefit from an exchange, and put out some good vibes to the tree as a ‘taster’, if you like, of what I meant.

The nemeton barrier dissolved and I was able to walk up to the oak’s trunk. As I arrived I was welcomed and told to sit. I sat, and noticed that the place I had chosen in the dark was perfectly shaped to seat me, and I was very comfortable sat with my back against the tree and leaning me head back onto it’s mossy trunk.

Rapidly I slipped into a meditative state – a very deep and powerful one that came on like a dizzy spell, but which was very pleasant too. I ventured a question, “May I ask you a question, lovely tree?” I cleared my mind for a response. A voice now projected into my empty thought stream, “What do you want to know?” I reeled a little from that. It gets me every time! It’s a joyous experience, but I kind of still don’t expect a response and it always startles me. Ha ha.

I thought for a second. Don’t blow your chance, I told myself. Think of something! I focused, “What is the nature of the energy that trees connect to sacred sites – what is its purpose and how does it work?” Phew – where did all THAT come from? I didn’t have time to wonder because I needed to relax the chatter.

The response came, as it sometimes does, audibly first for me. I’m a musician (of sorts) and I love music. This often means that Nature responds to me first in “my own language”. A sharp wind rustled the branches to my left and raindrops sprayed the floor of the wood for a few seconds. Aha! Water?? What about water? I didn’t understand. Another image was projected into my third eye cinema: it was a picture of the “Water Cycle” that we all get taught in school.

The Water Cycle

A question followed in my own voice, but not initiated from me; “What is the nature of that image?“. The question was being rebounded on me in my own terms! Cute. I fumbled for the answer…”Er…system of flows….er,…..circulation?” Fireworks went off in my head and the voice repeated, “Circulation. Circulation. Circulation.” It knew me well! I have an idiosynchratic memory and important things need to be drummed in. Here the tree was insisting I at least keep that one concept in memory!

When the tree felt I had got it the image began to be embellished. I saw a picture of trees drawing down energy from the sun, the moon and stars through their foliage, then working together under the direction and intent of the larger trees to corral and circulate the energy captured and re-worked. The energy generated is pushed out into the landscape down meridians to invigorate and seep into the landscape, promoting growth of new or young trees and plants.

My brain was straining to take in this living picture of the whole system working together in a huge cycle of energy flows involving all aspects of nature. I had a question, though, “What about stone circles where there aren’t any nearby trees?”. Again, an answer followed before I could think further – “Trees work at many levels. Shrubs like the gorse, the heather, even grass are fed by energy flows from trees, just at a smaller scale. We can move energies great distances when we all work together. These smaller plants in turn feed the landscape with energy and keep the flows circulating.” “Think fractal.” I saw in one moment a living flowing picture of the way it all worked together, and was stunned by its intricacy and ‘togetherness’ – a co-operation of purpose between species and levels to maintain energy flows to promote growth and life.

I couldn’t take any more. My head was full of wonder and amazement. At that moment another plan flew over head and I began to awaken from my reverie. Everything came back into focus again. Before I disconnected I pulsed waves of emotion into the tree – waves of gratitude, joy, and sheer pleasure. I invited the tree to make use of any of this energy for as long as it wanted to, and I felt the palpable stream of my energy being drawn as though with magnets upwards and into the tree as I glowed with joy and wonder.

I stood up and turned to thank the tree again for the experience. Then I walked back with none of the hesitation that I had when I first approached the wood that night. I felt no cold, and my head was full of thought of “circulation, circulation” as I left the confines of the trees to step back into reality.

“The flowers, the trees, the beasts, the people receive peace until the morning, when it all starts again.” (Julian Cope, “Psychedelic Odin”, ‘Black Sheep’ album)

Gwas

Find a higher path

One Response to “Alone in the Dark: Pt.2”