Every time I’m stuck behind a log truck, I get a queasy feeling in my stomach. It’s a mixture of grief and illness as to what lies before me: a hearse for trees. As an animal communicator, I not only understand when animals connect with me, but I also feel and “hear” trees, rocks, even water. That my sound like a stretch – but the old adage is true: we are all one. And that I see other commuters, sailing along past these large hearses shows either they are numb to it, or have never given it a second thought. “It’s just a tree”.
Recently I walked into this holding area and it made me want to turn and run. For me, it’s not unlike the wars we see on TV of scenes in far away places where there has been a war or natural disaster. All the bodies coming through our TV screens, meant to shock us, and yet – this graveyard sits squarely in front of the Columbia river. These lost spirits are awaiting their next journey overseas to mass produce housing for some other country. How nice of us! These defenseless souls lie in wait, most, but not all of them devoid of the spirit they once held. Do we ever thank our own homes? Do we thank those who gave their lives for the purpose of housing us?
Do we ever show gratitude for those who gave their lives for the purpose of housing us?
Most of these “logs” formerly “trees” are old growth. That means that they were here to greet Lewis and Clark and their grand expedition. In those days, and even several decades ago we had raping of the land under control. But today with humans procreating more and more humans, the demand for bigger hollow homes is on the rise. Not just here but around the world.
And what of the eco-system that is slaughtered along with the trees? What of the thousands of species that depended on these giants for their homes, their breeding, their food? The grasses where these giants once stood in forests are matted down like unwashed hair. The animals are displaced and dying. And many are coming into our neighborhoods to find food. I recently saw a bear in a school yard that was wandering aimlessly looking for something to eat. It’s disgusting because we’ve thrust ourselves into their habitats.
They “replant” what they’ve taken. Many times with the wrong types of trees for the climate. Many times without replanting happening for years on end. Many times it doesn’t happen at all.
I’m not suggesting that we can do much about our dependance on trees. That would be blissful thinking. And it’s not going to happen anytime soon. But we can be grateful. We can quietly and often, give thanks to those with no voices. We can look around our homes and thank the trees that gave their lives for our shelter. To me, “it’s just a tree” is ignorant. Because in the world I live in, they’re soulful sages of time and loving energy. They are the true time keepers of the planet. They are also becoming and endangered species.
So the next time you see a log truck hauling its sad load up the highway, send out a little prayer of thanks for those who have given their lives for the planet.