Do Trees Talk?

Do Trees Talk?
It's a question I've explored on and off since the late 70's.
And suddenly, I find myself exploring this question again.

My answer:
Yes, trees talk.

So why don't we hear them.
Because we're not listening properly.
I have found that if you listen, truly listen in a telepathic way, you can talk to trees.

And that's the secret...listen telepathically and the world opens up around you.
Not just the plants and trees and flowers, but animals too.

I have horses and I find that when I listen to them, they talk to me in their equine language which is both telepathic and body language.
I can talk, verbally speak to them all day and they won't respond using the same speech I use.
But when I speak their talk - when I see and think in their language of images, then I can communicate.

Yesterday, I walked into the barn to see my horse, Kailis. (Okay, I was there to muck out his stall, but I was there to see him too. Sorta goes hand-in-hand.)

He was in his stall keeping another young horse company. She was in the stall next to him. She was visibly upset and pacing in her stall. I watched her rock back and forth, shifting from one front foot to another. She rocked left to right, bringing one foot up over the other, like a little dance routine designed to comfort her. I tried to soothe her by talking softly, but she ignored me. I realized she had worked herself into a state that I couldn't reach by mere human speech. I tried to reach her, to calm her, but like an inconsolable crying child, she had worked herself into such a state that she couldn't listen or reason.

I realize now that I failed to speak her language - the language of images. I'm still learning all this new stuff. Still learning to use visualization to instead of verbal speech - and to truly hear with all my senses. Like most humans, I tend to rely solely on verbal speech. After all, it’s what is considered normal.

As humans we rely too much on our sense of hearing. Relying strictly on human speech is like being deaf. (One sense is missing. I really don’t like this analogy, but it’s the best I can do right now.) Even when we are not actively speaking to another person, we allow our brain to chatter along like a monkey. We fill in the quiet spaces that are desperately necessary with constant stimulation even when we are relaxing: music, tv, movies, computers...

In the last couple of years, I have been learning how to meditate. I have learned to be still and find the quiet places in my life and in myself. Going to the barn helps a lot – it’s usually just me and the horses. (And the barn swallows, hawks, eagles, geese, sheep...I’m not really alone, but it’s a quiet place where I can connect with my soul.) It’s a great way to recharge my batteries after a week of demanding work. Meditation allows me to just be. (Mucking out a stall is a great way to meditate – to just be in the now moment.

And in finding out how to just be, I have learned to appreciate my life.
Every night after work, I park my truck and just look around at the small grove of tall fir trees and bushes surrounding my home. I talk to them in my head, but with feeling. I look at each of the big trees around me and feel a sense of wonder that I have been blessed to hear them. I am still amazed to find out that they are sentient beings. It is amazing to think that these trees have feelings; it's amazing to think that they are as alive as a human being...perhaps more alive.

In this time between the commute and going inside, I can almost hear the trees welcoming me home. Mostly, I just feel welcome and appreciated.

It’s a nice feeling.