(Parts One & Two posted on May 13 & 20,
2016.)
Every time I talk for more than a few minutes with
anybody, my arms begin to branch outward in animation, my feet root into the
earth for sustenance, my skin becomes furrowed with age and I realize: I am
very treelike!
In my middle age, I
founded a practice named after my lifelong pursuit of trees and stories,
highlighted by an acronym which also happens to be my favorite color, teal: the
hue worn by tree canopies, oceans, estuaries. In my work with clients every
day, we build bridges of words, or memories and stories, of re-connection with
land, of wholeness and wellbeing.
In this season after season of work about which I
am passionate, trees become the metaphor, the name of, the touchstone, the root
system that holds and wholes people’s deepest stories.
We moved back here to my
beloved Pacific Northwest several months ago in the bare-limbed winter. Three
days ago I drove the back roads near home when suddenly I was flooded with
emotion that chose to lodge itself in my throat. On this overcast, warm, spring
day traversing a narrow lime green corridor of ripe leaves, a memory rises up
thick and palpable: my beloved uncle is driving me through the thick New Jersey
summer from Newark Airport to his and my grandfather’s home in Mountainside.
Raindrops begin to pelt the windshield and my little girl self marvels at
lightning and thunder, humidity that soaks and awakens me at night, green
forests that seem impossibly heavenly to my cement jungle Southern California
upbringing. And I scoot closer to my uncle on the seat, wrapping my tiny hand
around his fingers.
In this season of middle age, I realize how much trees
are my passion, my pathway to cherished memories, my spiritual life.
Written for Tulpehaking Nature Center’s Arbor Day
Benefit 2016: Rooted, Performance Salon
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2016 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
