Dear Ones, If you are on my email list, you already have a close connection with animals, but do you also communicate with, and appreciate plants and trees in the same way? Years ago, my dear friend Patricia Lewis (Patchwork Farm Writing and Yoga Retreats) invited me to have lunch with her and Dorothy MacLean. Dorothy MacLean was one of three people (along with Peter and Eileen Caddy) who founded the FINDHORN COMMUNITY in northern Scotland. She almost single-handedly brought back into our culture, the word, Deva and the wonderful possibilities of communicating with plants and trees in harmonious cooperation. She received messages from the devas of these beings. The results of how to grow food were so spectacular, it caught the attention of the Royal Agricultural Society. Growing 40-pound cabbages in a quarter-inch of topsoil was a way to bring attention to the possibilities of having a community based on the same principles of cooperation and appreciation. All life is vibration in motion. We can indeed have a telepathic connection with plants and trees, as well as other forms of life, which includes the mineral world. As I sit on my porch between my favorite spathiphyllum (peace lily) and sansevieria (snake plant), they are encouraging me to tell you that this is an excellent time for us to try to communicate with them. It is more possible than ever to have this communication. Have you ever sat with your back against a tree and listened to the ageless wisdom that streams forth. I did this once when I was questioning aging with an ancient maple who told me, “The sap is always new, no matter the casing.” Here is the poem for those who wish the whole story: THE OLDEST MAPLE Sunday we’ll go. Sunday, he said. Sunday we’ll go for a hike. When Sunday arrived fresh and bright after Saturday’s rain, he repeated again I’ll take you to see the oldest of trees as ancient and elegant as can be It’s just nearby, you’ll see Come and spend the day with me. The leaves had just begun to turn to harvest golds and russets burned The air’d turned crisp pungent with pine and just a wisp Of wood smoke. On stoop and stair the corn husks leaned While pumpkins vied with witch’s dreams readying for Halloween We hiked by the river as rafters played They splashed and oared and steered away from rocks and boulders on rapids swift while we traversed the rugged cliffs High above the river’s roar he told me of the mountain’s lore While the path rose up the trail He wound the story just as well Long ago, a man changed his life from riches, war and his country’s strife to new love and adventure. The people he pulled with oxen strong up and over the mountain long to the summit’s exhilaration. With turnstiles and pulleys they groaned and strained guiding the settlers of the wagon train headed to Ohio Three graves there were, ol’ timers tell side by side, in the forest dell Cholera it was. It hit them fast First the babe and then his lass No regrets for don’t you see Love made them live exquisitely for the time they had The graves are gone, the path still stands as I traverse this hilly land to see the tree, the oldest tree. Two hours pass and still we climb picking our way oe’r rock and vine A meadow appears with beds for deer But still my friend pushes clear into the next wood High on the slope I shout aloud Does the maple grow within this crowd of trees that ring the meadow grass? I pray that we will find it fast. I do remember that fields were bordered Some trees were left; the wind was thwarted I scan the horizon With great relief I spy her girth beyond one offspring, Itself of worth Unmistakable she stands holding her branches for all the land to find this northern treasure An airplane was used to track her down By foot she’s hidden and must be found My feet are sore My knees feel creaky My breath is short; my bladder weakly protesting over my shoulder’s cries. Thank goodness, I sigh Dropping down When did all this happen? I demand with a frown . Held by her bark against my back I knew just what to ask – in a voice gone slack Grandmother dear, what message is there For me to hear and perhaps to share With people my age…on aging! Her answer came strong, and swift as could be It rocked me and shocked me, definitely Here is the message she gave to me: THE SAP IS ALWAYS NEW, NO MATTER THE CASING Each spring when it rises it’s fresh and alive Just like your blood, whether ninety or five My sap is flowing and carrying along The very energy that makes us all strong My dear, we’re related right down to the nub Everything and everyone Is made of God’s Love Cie Simurro 2001 So, as we turn into summer, lush with foliage and flowers, I would like to encourage you to include the Green Nation in the circle of your love. The video link which follows was sent to me by Carol Gador of the NH Dowsing Society (thank you Carol) and is a truly remarkable demonstration of plant ability to translate emotion into music. The Damanhur community in Italy has worked at living in cooperation with the plant people for 30 years, and has developed a way to hook up a synthesizer to plants and then hear the music they make when in contact with people. It’s well worth a look. It’s my gift to you today to celebrate the Summer Solstice of 2012. HAVE A BEAUTIFUL and BLESSED SOLSTICE.! In kinship, Cie ~ Thunderbird Starwoman