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MaAnna Stephenson's Post

MaAnna Stephenson's Post

When is a Tree Dead

MaAnna Stephenson | 02.03.10 | 06:14 PM |
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The other night I watched a repeat of one of my favorite shows on NPT. It’s titled Tree Safari: A Sculptural Journey and it tells the story of a trip that world renowned woodcarver Brad Sells made to Africa. He was in search of some special wood called pink ivory.

The massive trees from which pink and red ivory come are extraordinarily slow growing, meaning that they have very tight growth rings. The wood is so dense that it is nearly as hard as a rock.

The trees are protected by the local governments because they are so rare. Special permission must be obtained to purchase and transport the wood, which cannot be removed from the country as a whole log. But, before any wood removal can be done, permission must also be sought from a higher authority.

The trees are primarily located in Zulu country where they are considered sacred. The bark from them is used for medicinal purposes as well.

Brad Sells is a spiritual man. He didn’t go to Africa simply in search of trees. He looked forward to interacting with the people who had tree knowings. When told that he would have to consult with a revered tribe elder and shaman, Brad was honored to be in the presence of wisdom that had been passed down through generations of a people still intimately connected with their natural surroundings.

Credo “Baba” Mutwa is the most venerated Zulu Sanusi in the country and whose permission had to be given for Brad to remove any wood from the area. When asked which tree Brad had in mind, he said that it was one that already showed signs of dying, to which Mutwa replied:

"When is a tree dead? Because we, who grow up amongst trees know that even a dead tree is alive. So, it’s just a funny question, when is a tree dead? Some trees become more alive when dead than when they were alive."

The spiritual implications of those words ring in my mind every time I sit down to carve. I’m carving trees from trees.

I can also look at the fallen limbs and branches in the woods behind my house and see that they have become food for the ground as well as for a multitude of crawly things. Plus, they serve as shelter and hiding places for small furry creatures. I see twigs of those fallen trees scattered among the other trees in the form of bird’s nests that will house another generation of winged things for a time.

So, when is a tree dead?

I have no plans to remove a piece of pink ivory wood from Africa. But I would like to take a safari; a spiritual one to sit at the feet of Sanusi Mutwa for a while and see what else I can learn.


Member Comments:

Submitted by Jane Adams on February 4, 2010 - 10:35pm.

Oh My Goodness! MaAnna, What a wonderful and interesting piece that was to read. I just really loved it so much.

I am a big time tree hugger. I love trees so very much, as you do. I am sending you this story about my willow tree that I know you will understand.

Till next time,
Jane

The Willow Tree . . .

About ten years ago I lived in a condo that had an upstairs patio that looked out on a beautiful willow tree that I had loved for fifteen years. I would even take pictures of it from different rooms and at different angles. Squirrels and birds would play in it. It was just so absolutely magnificent and graceful.

One night there was a beautiful full moon so I went out on the patio. The willow tree was very close to the patio so I could reach out and bring the long graceful hanging branches close to my face.

The moon looked so beautiful shining through the branches of my Willow tree.

I reached out and gathered up the branches. I held its leaves to my face and told it how much that I loved it. I thanked it for being there all those years and for being so very beautiful.

That night as I stood there in the full moon, holding the willow tree leaves to my face, I named the willow tree Willowmeana.

The mystics tell us that trees have tree spirits and when they
die the spirit remains where it wants to be.

The next afternoon when I came home from work I opened my door and went inside. I noticed that it was way too bright in the room and I heard something outside that sounded like some sort of electrical saw. I Panicked!

I rushed out onto the patio and Willomeana was gone. They had cut her down. I just could not believe it. I burst into tears, and just cried, and cried.

I called the office and they said that the tree surgeon said she had a disease and that they needed to remove her before she rotted and fell into the street. I never did believe that because she was so beautiful and green.

After the tree people left I went downstairs where she had been. I was crying all the way. There was only a stump where Willowmeana had been all those years. Frankie my cat had been buried under her. It was all just too dreadful and so sad.

As I stood over her stump, I reached down and gathered up some of her leaves in one hand, and sawdust in the other. I went to the Container Store and bought two tall slender glass apothecary jars with cork stoppers. I carefully put her leaves in one jar and her sawdust in the other.

It has been over ten years now and I have both jars on the bookshelves in my bedroom so that I can see them every day from now on.

This was all so much chaos for me but now I can say,” Who am I to disagree with the arbitrary nature of chaos.” It has been my experience that after the dust has settled, and chaos has done what it came to do, things seem to be even better than before, in a way that helps us understand things more deeply.

Now here is the wonderful, magical thing that happened when
I thought that I had lost Willowmeana forever.

The mystics say that when you meditate that you need your own personal place to go in your mind. Well, I have a really wonderful place that I go to for over thirty years now. It has all the beautiful things in nature that I love.

My place starts as I walk out of nowhere, into this place, down a path of soft green grass that has all the fragrant flowers that I love. The flowers are on the right side of my path next to a babbling brook. There are lovely roses, gardenias, jasmine, and honeysuckle. There are also pretty daisies and tulips arranged in a way that they all look beautiful.

The babbling brook that is there to my right of my path, has beautiful trees on both sides of the bank. The trees meet each other at the top over the brook to form a tree tunnel.

As I look down the brook through the beautiful tree tunnel, at the end of the brook there is a waterfall. The sun shines down from above to make the water sparkle like diamonds. It is a beautiful and magical place to be.

The next night after all this sad and dreadful occurrence happened, I was meditating. As I walked down my grassy path as always, I just could not believe my eyes. There on the left side of the bank of the brook where I always walked was Willomeania. She had planted herself there for me to see each night as I meditated.

I ran over to her and threw my arms around her. I told her that I loved her. She said that the tree spirits had allowed her to come there to be with me because I loved her so much. She said love is magic, and love had allowed her to be with me forever.

Well there you have it, the story of the willow tree that got to stay with the human that loved it.
I have since then moved from that place where she was cut down, but she is still with me. Now after ten years I get to be with her every night as I meditate and fall asleep.

Maybe this will help us all understand that . . . Love IS magic.

Submitted by MaAnna Stephenson on February 5, 2010 - 6:32pm.

Jane, thank you so much for sharing the story of Willomeana. She lives on in your heart and I'm glad that she chose to plant herself in your meditation space so you could both continue to commune together.

Submitted by West Kootenay I... on February 5, 2010 - 8:10am.

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Hi Jane,
What a lovely and interesting story. thank you for taking the time to write it..

I planted a corkscrew willow by my pond as one of the first new trees an my new property. Im hoping to root offspring all around the pond.

Submitted by Jane Adams on February 5, 2010 - 12:38pm.

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Hi West,

I love Willow trees too.They have always been sort of magical to me . . . West I have a question for you.I have an extremely curious nature. In your picture, is it a dog or a lama?

I feel sort of stupid and almost in poor taste asking that, so
PLEASE don't take it in a bad way.

Till next time,
Jane.

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