Earth Speaks Its Secrets in Textures

Earth has secrets to reveal, but you have to know how to read the signs. The language of nature doesn't fit into human text. It uses countless varieties of texture to express the subtle, shifting dialect of the land, water, sun and wind. Wisps of fog and thunderheads describe the journey of the wind. A shimmering palette of colors relate witty repartee between water, surrounding hills, plants and light. The grain of tree bark narrates decades of encounters with storms and heat, insects and animals.

The miracle of Earth's language is that each being can only understand what is being said through a one-to-one relationship. Nature doesn't make universal pronouncements. That would be too simple-minded and disconnected from the immediate needs of billions of humans, trillions of birds, mammals, snakes, lizards, flies, trees, grasses and flowers. Instead, Earth's language—the gurgling of a brook, the arc of a branch, or the redness of a berry—simultaneously says what is relevant to the bird, bug or bear that is engaging it at any given moment.

So, the next time you walk out your door, even if you're in Manhattan, notice the textures you encounter. What patterns of light and shadow are the trees casting on the ground? How are the ridges and valleys forming a visual brail in the sky? Sense the expansion and contraction of space as your animal body passes down streets, through doorways into rooms. Ignore the story your mind spins. With your whole being, listen to what is being said. At first, it may make no sense. In time, you can open beyond human words and understand the Earth's poetic song.

What We Dream Today

Once we weren't here. There was only the rolling earth, the shimmering waters, the waving grasses, the stretching oaks, the soaring hawks, the dancing deer, the industrious ants, the rain, the clouds, the sun and moon. There was a day the first humans came, standing upright, carrying tools, sparking cooking fires, shaping clay into pots, weaving grasses into baskets. There was a day when each street, building, park and car first appeared.

There was a day when I rediscovered the land beneath the concrete. I remembered that everything humans make springs from a dream within the mind. The dream mixes into the earth, generating computers, smart phones, sneakers and T-shirts. That day, I saw that what was dreamed into one form can be re-dreamed into other forms. That day, my bones recalled that the beliefs separating humans from the land can be re-shaped to weave humans back into the land. That day, my flesh and blood and brain shimmered as currents within the shimmering energy and wisdom of the earth. That day, I moved from living on the land to living from the land. And that day, I sensed the earth's desires becoming human desires; that what humans had formed from division will be reformed from integration. I saw that what is here will be forgotten and what will be here will be the result of what we dream today.