As I walk the mountain woods sometimes the trees tell a story from another time and place. You can tell by the size of the trees how old the growth is there. Occasionally there is a patch of old growth that remains intact, undisturbed across the years. There is a different feeling among them than in the surrounding woods.
A sense of peace and balance pervades, a feeling as cooling as shade along a summer stream.
Once in a while a single old trunk stands among them, twisted into grotesque shapes, knots and limbs. These trees are the healers of the forest, and are very powerful. They transform the energy of the place, taking in the energies of the land and its history. The site may be an old battleground, or on lines of energy in the landscape called Ley or dragon lines.
Their gnarled trunks are a concentration of forces. As complex energies are captured in wood the results are a magnificent blending of growth and time.
Across the seasons a small portion may weather away. Into clarity across the years, a window onto every possibility. An embrace of emptiness.
Here and then gone, like a mighty Kiai.
