Walking
through the forest I gaze at the lovely tresses and garb that the
summer reveals. Each creature, each upholding a part of the universe.
With a steady heart, I stride along, softly across the still damp
ground. The morning is yet quiet, no sound of the market square can be
heard from Moorgate as I take the path along the outskirts of town to
the shore. Here is the lake, water stretching for miles. At a time,
this ground I stand on was once underwater...now it is covered with
violets, aster, oak, beech, fern...and the homes of many townsfolk. I
think of the tree which was the haven of peace for the Rangers of the
old code in Moorgate...that sacred Oak which burned to the ground. I
stand looking out onto the water, its waves sending calm through me. I
recall the awe that I felt when I heard first of this tree, so tall and
lovely.
I had been afraid of my life, my future, my existence at the time that
I asked Warrior Nightflare if I may join the Children of Light. He
brought me to a place in the forest where a large burned stump of an
oak tree was. I would not see the tree as it once was, tall and lovely,
as a canopy over the forest floor. There were no nesting birds, no
chipmunks climbing its trunk. It had been burned to the ground years
ago, during a time when a certain sorcerer was connected to the power
of fire. I have never understood all of it...and I know to myself that
my knowledge is small, though my heart is full.
'Twas then and there that I remembered how much peace means tae me. The
ranger Trancer arrived, and greeted me warmly. I spoke of my awe for
this serene spot. She told me, that this tree was the symbol of the
forest to be protected, defended and upheld in both the ways of the
ranger, as well as through the Children of Light. This being said,
Nightflare was clear that the Children were not based on Ranger ethics,
but that peace in itself was the goal of the Children.
I sit down
on the still damp earth. I recall this memory and hold it, turning it
over in my mind. The warm earth sends heat through my body, and I
slowly breath in the morning air. Feathers, the Owl Shaman spoke words
I found to be kind, when I told her of my wish to find a restorative
for the tree. It seemed so sad to me, that something so symbolic should
be destroyed. I though perhaps as a fellow forest dweller, Feathers
might have some insight as to what could be done. I proposed some sort
of gathering by Moorgate townsfolk, for items that would help protect a
new tree. This idea seemed well enough. I realized I did not know
myself what to look for!! As my thought drift back here to the lake, I
realize the sun is warming on my back, and I must be about the business
that I have ready for me today.
Nearing a forest clearing, I brush my hair back from my face and take a
breath. Traveling since early day, I have come to find an answer to the
destruction that I perceived upon a space I considered sacred. Was it
the fire itself that was destructive, or the fact that a change was
brought about in a way that I do not understand? If I answer that the
fire was destructive, I must understand all that happened. I do not
understand all that happened. Perhaps, the true destruction has not
come yet, but will come when I finally see that not only I initiate
change, that change itself comes in many forms, oft times my mind may
not grasp what it means.
Was this such a deep wound it could not heal? Fire, does itself bring
regeneration in the forest. New life, new growth from the ashes and the
flames. Was Morlend's fire, truly destructive, then, or some greater
initiator of good? For is not life good, and the changes therein? Those
who stood before me, taught me, led me and guided me, helped me to look
into the stillness of all things to find answers to problems. The
Fighter's guild showed me how to prepare myself for situations, how to
defend myself, as well as how to pace myself.
This I know, Moorgate has been my home for ten years, and there I have
learned much about life. The forest is ever my home, where I was born
and where I grew.
Living as a ranger in Moorgate, the healers way came slowly as a member
of the Fighters guild. This was my choice, I felt so afraid when I
arrived I wanted to learn to survive in combat. This part of my life I
feel very strongly about...that in order to fight bravely, I must have
something to believe in...something to keep me from cowering before my
foes. In fact, peace is for me that something. To remind me of peace,
and of strength, I always held to the vision of that burned tree stump,
thinking "the world can have peaceful places, the world can have
change, and I can learn to live with both."
So this is
what this tree is to me...perhaps I spend to much time in memory, when
I should think more about what it important. Memories that calm me,
give me hope, and courage, and even ignite my spirit are those that I
call upon when I am about my business. I feel this would be true even
had I chosen the path of a full healer, which I did not.
My only poor offering to what my heart calls me to is a new tree, which
must be dug up, bundled and replanted in a new site, where it can grow
tall and lovely.
This is what I set out tae do, today. I went to where the oldest oaks
stood watching young saplings sprouting out of the ground. With my bow
behind my back, I set looking for one strong, with good signs of
growth, that being new branches and many leaves. I called upon peace,
and tranquility, so that I would choose wisely with guidance from my
heart. As I walked through the shade, there one tree appeared to me. I
approached it, saw that it was tall yet not gangly, with many branches
yet not awkward or twisted.
I offered the crumbled bread I had brought for the tree I was taking. I
said my thanks that I had found the tree. I quickly dug around the base
of the tree, making sure to make a wide birth around the young trunk.
The young tree I lifted, root and all and set on a burlap cloth.
Wrapping the root ball into the cloth, I tied my parcel and refilled
the hole with dirt. Strapping the tree to my back, I set out for the
space I had readied. The days memories still sifting through my mind, I
realized again how it can be one small effort to reach toward peace,
yet it takes time and patience to seek it out, find it and recognize
it.
Curdie, Windhaven
|
