Sacred Grove

In the front field of what I still regard as my "home" is an old oak tree positioned above a well. I have written of this oak before and also, I think, written about how, in a guided meditation which was meant to lead me up to the moon, I felt the roots of this very tree encircle me and the tree said, "Child, stay: this is where you belong."

The field is turning to forest. The oak children of this great tree spreading across the land. They have already filled the space between the far hedge and the tree.

I wanted to sit under the canopy. I sat in the saddle between the two stems, looking down at the well.

Ahead of me, a wide open space. And then, perfectly tracing the great tree's canopy, a circle of young oaks.

I was in what would be a grove. When the old tree dies, there will be a circle of oaks around an open space. This is how a Sacred Grove forms. The dancing graces around the goddess tree and at her passing, the graces remain.

I felt a deep sense of belonging. Of the knowledge that I would live here again. I experienced a deep sense of the mystery and the simplicity of life, of home, of life and death, of the regeneration always immanent in the process of aging. And I came to understand that transcendence resides in immanence and cannot be separated out. Mind is matter and matter is mind. Meaning lies in being, the eternal becoming of being. That is all.

And I thought of a line in the book I am listening to, "What of the King Stag when the young stag is grown?"

I set up the wildlife camera just outside the canopy.

When I came back in the morning, I saw it had fired only three times. I was disappointed. So disappointed that I didn't even download the films. Gary said, "What were you expecting?" "The King Stag," I said.

When I got back to my present home, I downloaded the films. The first was the wind in the leaves. The third was me collecting the camera.

This was the second.

Not the King Stag, but the young stag.

The time has not yet come.