t r e e s t o r y

The Madrona (who has yet to reveal her name to me) is located on a hillside inside Fort Worden State Park in Port Townsend, the site of a former military base. It was built in the early 1900’s as one of three forts built to protect the entrance to Puget Sound. Ironically, the Madrona probably owes her existence today to the fact that her surroundings were military. In the 1970’s, the Fort was turned over to a state park. If not for the base, no doubt this same area would now

I am immersed in a six day Teacher Training for a program called Soul Motion, which is a form of mindful movement dance. In essence, it is a dance form that inspires embodied awareness of the world and of self. The program starts at 7:30am and goes until 9pm, so it is challenging my twice a day vigil with the madrona. I have to go earlier and stay late. To be with the tree first thing in the morning and at twilight is becoming habitual and of an increasingly compelling nature

It is raining rather hard. But I can’t let simple discomfort interfere with my commitment to the Madrona. Dolly and I headed out on the half hour walk to see if its tree enchanted world would be dimmed by the downpour. I am learning that this tree has a deep history in the area. The director of the premier arts organization here, Centrum, whose offices are just down the hill from the tree, told me its original logo was this Madrona. He wished it still was. It would be fitting

It often mystifies me to wake up and find a mood has already overtaken me, as if it came during sleep, slipped in unawares past the guardians of nighttime. Today I woke up aching with a dull loneliness, almost as if part of my heart had been removed in a secret somnolent surgery and left in its place a vacant lot. Dolly Parton dog hopped up on the bed just then. It was part of her ritual to listen for that right time to get the day going. She wrestled me to me feet. We have a

I woke too early in the birthing soft light of predawn. Because the campaign was just starting, I had to go on the computer right away for a half hour or so. Starting the day that way made me feel disjointed and jangled, a state I carried with me along the half hour walk to the Madrona. I lay my body against her smooth trunk and did an exercise I call “tree breathing.” It is a way I greet a tree and a way to settle my energy down if I need it. It takes six breaths. The first

As I turned the corner of the building and could clearly see the full life force and figure of the madrona tree, green leafed and rounded against the twilight sky, I felt a tingling all about my head. It felt that what I was heading to meet had instantly reached out to meet me hundreds of feet away. Perhaps this explained the experience of the past two mornings as I woke to an image of this tree and a feeling that it was waiting for me. Some people consider communication with

I begin 30 days with a Madrona tree, spending at least two hours with it every day and eventually an entire 24 hours in its limbs. I will be posting writings, poems, videos and photographs of the adventure - what I learn about the tree and about me in it. This is part of our exciting Indiegogo campaign to support TreeStory. Take the journey with us. Pick a tree in your life and commit to be with it a little bit each day, just noticing it, paying attention to it, spending time