Voices in the Trees

Meditation is reaching into my psyche and teasing loose unexpected and wonderful sensations. It’s like following a path through Hansel and Gretel’s forest but instead of leaving a trail of crumbs, I’m collecting a trail of treasures someone left along the way.

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The other day, when I was walking in the park, I looked up into the trees and they suddenly took on an almost surreal clarity and vibrancy. I could see the outline of each leaf and sense the nuanced differences in the gradations of their greens. Each one was unique. I experienced a profound connection to those leaves; it felt like I could name each one and describe its personality.

Alfred Greenleaf likes chocolate ice cream and once shoplifted a packet of colored pencils. He still feels guilty about it.

Wendy Leafblower dreams of one day going skydiving. In the meantime she crochets tea cozies and is addicted to reruns of Friends.

Howard Leafmealone is something of an introvert and wishes the other leaves would give him some space.

Brenda Longleaf is self conscious about the length of her veins.

Merry Greensleaves wishes she was a needle on a Christmas tree.

George Mapleleaf is something of a sap.

While that babel of personalities was revealing itself to me, at the same time the voices of the leaves seemed to be humming a gentle melody with layered harmonics, the autumn breeze smelling of sunshine and playing a woodwind accompaniment to chirping crickets and the last of the summer cicadas.

It was as if all of those layers of life and energy and music had always been there, just under the surface, but I had never noticed them.

What other wonders are waiting for me just around the next bend in the path?

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