There is currently little balance in the world because, at some point in our recent history, our reasoning minds conducted an outright coup d’état on any other human faculty of perceiving the world and in so doing is now threatening not only our existence but that of countless other species. I’ve seen the limitations and exclusivity of rational thought over my short years and the sheer damage its lone power has done to all life on Earth without being tethered to a more intuitive sense that uses the heart as its main organ of perception and not the brain. I’ve not gone mad, by the way, just in case you’re wondering. It was the sense that our people and their people are dying and that if we could somehow find a way to meet and relate to one another, something might come from doing so.
There was something about my son’s predicament and the plight of the Ash trees that joined inside of me, and I felt the desire to find a way to converse, if you will, or communicate in some way with one of these beings and preferably an elder. At some point after that event, in the early weeks of autumn, I woke up one morning knowing somehow that I had to find a very old secluded Ash Tree to spend a lot of time with. The weeks and months that followed are all the evidence needed to support that statement. I remember thinking – as we paddled on east with the setting sun behind us, a rising moon in front, fish jumping from the water and the noise of human traffic fading to the relieving sounds of birdsong and water as we canoed gently downstream – “something big just happened back there”. Towards the end of last summer, after the wonderous nocturnal adventures on the River Dart, the Ash tree that mysteriously fell into the river as I was passing did something to me.
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