Autumn moments

What is it like to be a tree? Here, in Lesično. On the southern slope, where mostly oaks, cherry trees, a few chestnuts and beeches grow. On the steep hillside, where little paths wind their way through. Decaying, fallen trunks lie on the ground. And yet, they are by no means dead. Life is bursting forth everywhere. Below, a little stream murmurs. The ethereal body of water flows endlessly along its bed, even when its embodied part sinks into the earth. Though never entirely. It nourishes this place, its animals. It carries impressions from beneath the hill, where droplets gather under rocks, among roots, in the dwellings of little forest spirits.

I sit and listen. How incredibly loud the sound of a dry leaf is as it breaks away from a branch and falls to the ground. Through its sound, it announces that one journey is coming to an end and something new is beginning. Its active work is done, but its changing body will go on nourishing others. Including us, as we walk upon the carpet of fallen leaves.

I settle into stillness. Time begins to flow and turn differently. No longer in intervals of 60-60-24. But in the rhythm of sunbeams dancing through the branches. In the rhythm of falling leaves. In the curious little feet of songbirds. The place grows quieter, and yet, at the same time, it hurries along in its own way. Gathering, accumulating. Preparing for sleep.

The trees watch everything unfold, dreamily. Calm and at ease. After the severe drought, they have opened their channels and flowing veins. They bathe in the sunbeams gently caressing their crowns. The ground is dry, but not parched. It is all so peaceful and beautiful. They are stepping into a time of thoughts and ideas. Into a space beyond the embodied realm. They reach into the heart of the Earth and towards the celestial vault. They hold and support the dance of life for us, too.