A guided forest walk in November

Larry Rohan, Whidbey Institute Forest Steward and our guide this day says “close your eyes, breathe deeply, listen.”

It takes a moment to settle down, to slow, to allow myself this.

After awhile, I slowly open my eyes.
One person has their hands to the sky, another is on their knees.

“Now use your touch, smell - invite the forest in through your senses.”

I push my face into the moss. I curl into the tree. I taste the sap.

We’re inside the Listening Circle. Mushroom caps are filled with water, moss cushions underfoot, the wind swoops and soars. Larry tells us they are russula brevipes, and they are the mushrooms that can be transformed into a lobster shroom by the parasite hypomyces lactifluorum. Say that three times fast.

Larry is full of intel. He tells us he hopes to help us see who we are in this world in relation to nature, and to grow and hold gratitude in and with nature. We are but one species amongst so many. 

And, he says, the side benefit is - Joy!

“I often walk through the forest saying thank you, thank you, thank you”, he says, smiling. “I think humanity has collective amnesia - we’ve forgotten our place in this amazing world, our connection to the cosmos.”

And the easiest, and fastest way, to a reconnection, Larry says, is through the senses. Hence our group journey this morning with sound, touch, smell and even taste.

We go round the circle to share some of what we heard when we closed our eyes and breathed deeply:

Traffic, Wind
I heard a hum from the earth, and it is loud!
The sound of the rain ricocheting off my jacket.
I liked listening to everyone, it helps me direct my own thoughts.
I heard a frog sound and then realized it was my breath.
I heard a tree creaking in the wind and sensed the body of the tree.

The sounds were all interconnected, all one conversation - one frog, another frog, then the tree, the wind.

“Now,” says Larry, “get your nose into nature. Touch and smell, and pay attention to texture. What is the feeling sense you get, what do you notice?”

I notice the moss, but not at first. At first I begin a stride over to my chosen tree, and then I notice that it’s just so soft underneath. I am supported. I stop, and slowly start up again, gently. I bend, get my face into the soft, sweet earth-smelling moss. Then finally there’s the tree, and the sap, the spider and the web. This tree gives so much.

“I ate the sap,” says someone. “I felt the energy,” says another. “Some things are beyond words.”

“Be aware of your instinctive sense, your gut space,” says Larry. “Act from that place.”

A final time around the Listening Circle to share our reflections:

I am a live being approaching another.
We are sensing beings to one another.
I wanted to stay forever.
I asked permission.
I’m not alone.
I’m never gonna be the same again.

“It’s in our DNA,” says Larry. “It takes a bit of time to slow down, but we can do it.”

We begin a short hike. We do a section of the Storyhouse loop, about a half mile in length.

Larry has a surprise for us at the end of our walk. A Japanese tea ceremony at the picnic table behind Storyhouse Stage. What a treat. Larry has made us a big pot of stinging nettle, sitka spruce tips, evergreen huckleberry and red raspberry leaf tea. We have several rounds, there is plenty. We ‘cheers’ and drink, tasting the nature outside of us, on the inside.

Karina - Communications Steward

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Winter Solstice: Returning to the Light

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Forest Medicine