‘Hey Little Sister, come closer. Lean your ear towards me.
I have words for you.’
As I stepped out today for a walk on a raw, cold December afternoon, the light was fading early. I was lamenting the loss of the light, as we move towards the shortest day on the Winter Solstice. I was also having a moment of feeling inadequate, feeling small and insignificant in the face of the enormity of the task to turn the ways of humanity round so that we can start moving towards the Golden Era of Peace, Love and Harmony that we are all longing for.
And as I trudged up the mud-slick track, I heard these words, ‘Hey Little Sister, come closer. I have words for you.’ I looked round.
‘Who was that?’ I wondered.
‘Lean your ear towards me. I have words for you,’ the voice said again, clear as day. It was coming from a magnificent oak tree, the kind that Herefordshire is famous for.
I have been mourning the impending loss of a beloved tree in whose lap I have sat for many years to do my daily meditations – the beautiful ancient crab apple, whose roots form a perfect seat for me to sit on. Yesterday, when I went to visit her for my daily dose of connection with Nature, she told me that it was the last time that it would be safe for me to sit under her branches. She is dying, and likely to fall with the next storm. Even though I have seen this coming over the last few months, watching the fungus grow on her beloved body, I cried tears of grief at the news.
My dear friend, under whose branches I have sat amongst the intoxicating scent of her pink blossoms, to the soundtrack of the humming of thousands of bees as they collected her nectar, would soon be gone. And in the autumn, the occasional plop of a falling apple, accompanied by the delicious scent of fruit released, as it hit the ground, would be no more. In her arms, I have learned so much wisdom to help carry me through difficult times, as I journeyed or meditated. She has been my place of solace during the lockdown. I couldn’t bear the thought that soon she won’t be here.
On that last day, mild and blustery with moisture on the wind, I placed my hand on her trunk as a gesture of goodbye. And then, carried to me on the December breeze, was the distinct smell of crab apple fragrance – as if she was giving me this last gift of her exquisite scent as her final farewell.
So, I was looking forlornly for a new place of comfort and connection, when I heard the deep and gruff voice of the Oak, so different to the chiming, sweet sound of Crab Apple. I asked, as I always do, if it was OK to come into his field of energy and his reply was, ‘Yes, it is imperative that you do.’ So I approached his gnarly, ridged trunk and lay my ear against his bark.
‘You are a Child of the Earth and your Soul is from the Stars.
In you, is blended the Beauty of the Cosmos.’
‘Greetings, Dear One,’ he said. ‘You are a child of the Earth and your soul is from the Stars. In you, is blended the Beauty of the Cosmos.’
‘Do not compare yourself to others. You are a golden thread in the rich tapestry of life. Without your golden lustre, the beauty of the whole would be diminished. You have your unique role to play, as do all the other beautiful souls in this dance of life. It is vital at this time that you remember this and keep your vibration high.’
‘Keep disconnecting yourself from the fear and chaos of the Collective. Do not get caught up in arguments, disagreements, conflicts of any sort, no matter how worthy the cause seems. Keep seeing the Bigger Picture.’
Keep grounding yourself. Keep soaking in the Love of the Creator. Keep filling the chalice of your heart with love and light until it overflows and radiate it out to the world.’
‘Know this – All is Well. All will be Well.’
‘Go now to your home. Warm yourself by the fire and bask in the love of your family.’
‘These are the words of the Tree People, coming to you from Brother Oak.’
Anna Bromley - Flowersong Healing 