Changing the Trajectory

 For the ancient Celts, Samhain was the end of one year and the beginning of the next.  It was a time when the veil between this world and the Otherworld was thin.  It was a time for sweeping out the old and beginning the new.  When the people of these lands were Christianized by the Romans and those who followed, Samhain was appropriated as All Soul’s Day and the eve of this day was All Hallows Eve, or Hallowe’en.

And so, for my ancestors, November would be the beginning of a new year and the beginning of the winter season (there was only summer and winter then), of the darker time of the year.  Here in Canada we tend to dread this time of the year as the days get shorter and the weather gets colder.  And then this year, we are also dealing with a world wide pandemic.  New terrain indeed.

And so, on the first day of November, I went to the forest to walk on the mostly fallen leaves that make the forest floor glow with a yellow, orange, and golden light.  I went to the forest in the rain, with my umbrella and mittens and I walked the usual trail.  At the first divide, the trail I rarely took seemed to beckon.  If I chose to see today as the start of a new year, then a new trail seemed in order.  And so I took it and came to the top of the hill that leads to the Wild Ginger patches.  I could see their still dark green leaves covering parts of the forest floor down below.  But the hill was steep and covered in slick, wet leaves.  Not a trail for today.  We continued on past a grove of Eastern Hemlock trees.  Their blue green shade was calming and soothing. I always feel very quiet and reflective when I am near Hemlocks.  And quiet is like medicine these days.

We kept following the trail to where it had seemed to dead-end at a house on a previous visit.  But, with the leaves down, it became obvious that the trail bypassed the house and yard and so we kept on going.  It took us all the way back to the road where we  had begun but it stopped just before the ditch and made a ninety degree turn to the left.  And there we found two Hawthorn trees growing at the edge of the woods.  I have a special relationship with Hawthorns and since there aren’t very many of them where I live, each new meeting is a cause for celebration.  One of the trees looked healthy and the other had some dead branches covered in lichen.  This seemed auspicious, to take a new trail and find two new trees at the beginning of a new year.

This trail got us back to the car but we hadn’t had enough forest time yet, so we drove to another entrance to the forest and parked there.  After a few minutes, I found a Hemlock branch that must have been broken off by the wind. It was lying in the middle of the trail.  I picked it up to bring home and to listen to Hemlock some more.  It didn't seem done with me yet.

 We took the trail down the hill to the river and visited with it for a while.  It had been raining and the river was full so the water bounced off of the river stones adding oxygen to it that would be good for the fish. I felt happy watching it. Then we climbed back up the hill away from the river and into a bowl-shaped glade that I love. Just as I entered it, the sun found a hole in the clouds and flashed on like a spotlight.  The glade glowed with sunlight for just a few seconds before the clouds moved on.  That one flash of sunlight brought so much joy to me and it brought me right into the moment.  Pay attention!

On the last hill, we encountered two Weimaraner dogs that we had seen before.  Their smooth, grey, muscular bodies were beautiful as they bounded down the hill and around the trees chasing one another.  Their enthusiasm was infectious and they made me smile.  And then we continued on our way back to the trail that led to the road.  One more time, the sun shone through the clouds and lit up the forest.  The White Birches reflected back the light and they gleamed amidst the dark trunks and branches of the bare Maples, Oaks and Ashes.  They lit up as though they were on a stage with spotlights.  The ancient Celts had a kind of tree alphabet that contained the wisdom of the forest.  It was called the Ogham script.  Some of these letters and trees are associated with various times of year.  And the Birch is the tree for the New Year.  Even though my ancestors lived across the ocean, the forest was still communicating with me here in Canada.

The day before, on our forest walk a Raven had called out as it flew over us just as we entered the forest.  It didn’t call out after it had passed us so perhaps it was announcing our presence.  Just as we were leaving the forest, it flew over again and called out, perhaps announcing our departure.  We don’t see Ravens that often, so when we do, we pay attention.  It is a gift.  The forest community is speaking.

Once I got home, I looked up the uses of Hemlock and discovered that you can make a Vitamin C rich tea from the needles.  The new growth in the spring is the best but it can be made anytime.  And so, I broke off some of the little branches and put them in my tea pot to which I added boiling water.  It made a pleasant tea which would be helpful for treating colds and flus.  And it felt good to drink in the forest.

Pat McCabe  https://www.patmccabe.net/  (Woman Stands Shining) is a Dine (Navajo) mother, grandmother, activist, artist, writer, ceremonial leader and international speaker.  I recently heard her speak at an on-line TreeSisters’ event where she suggested that we go back to the old stories and start to tell them again.  This, she said, would automatically change the trajectory into the future.  I found that idea fascinating.  As I walked through the forest, I thought about the old stories that were told on the land that I was walking on.  I thought about the old stories of my ancestors, told in different forests.  These were stories that honoured the trees and the rest of life as teachers. 

And so, I am listening to the trees and the forest.  They are teaching me how to be healthy.  And they are teaching me how to belong to the web of life and how to be in good relationship with the rest of life.  And then I bring that knowledge back into the world of people.  I am remembering the old stories.  And, yes, I am hoping that the trajectory changes.

Here is Pat McCabe giving a Blessing to a Pachamama Alliance conference.