"As soon as I got the e-mail from Basia and Dr. Jim, The Tree Whisperer®s, to go outside and walk amongst the trees in my charge, that’s what I did. I walk amongst them every day. They accompany me...

— Suzanne’s trees in Westhampton, New York, after Hurricane Sandy

…as I go through my life – washing my dishes, frolicking with my dogs.  As I negotiate and figure out my life, there they stand — steadfast and ever there.   They once told me that of all the people and things that come and go – they will remain …   They remain because there is a community of them, all holding each other together, keeping each other in place by the roots.”

Suzanne Ruggles with her dear trees in Westhampton, New York, after Hurricane Sandy.

Suzanne Ruggles with her dear trees in Westhampton, New York, after Hurricane Sandy.

Suzanne continues: “I dutifully care about those spirits that strongly guard me, and in whose bows my brothers the animals scamper, from whom the birds sing to me, build their nests, and have their way to my feeders.    I care about them because they whisper to me, they clap for me, they dance and billow in the wind and plié in the grace of the breezes.

“But this wind seemed a harsh wind.   At one point I feared and I cried for my trees, they were bending so … in ways I would never have believed they could endure bending and swaying.  It seemed they were being scolded or at the very least disregarded by the mother to whom they were attached.  The mother to whom they were dutifully and inexorably bound was tossing them and testing them.  I listened to what they were telling me.  I listened to their voices.

“Shhh SHHHHHHSHSSSSHH   they were telling me.  Go inside, wait this out  ,,,, we’ll take care of this …..

“And that’s what they did.

“While I watched and prayed for them,  I sent them loving, helpful vibrations.  I was with them.  We were in this together.  I knew it.  And they knew it ….   This was our storm, and we were not alone.

“The next morning , I found a carpet of gifts across my landscape.    Kindling wood covered the ground as far as the eye could see.  Not a single tree was harmed in any other way.    What had seemed fearful torment to me, had  simply been our mother helping my trees to shake the dry wood from their luxurious hair.  What I had perceived as violent shaking turned out to be joyful dancing, and my trees were light invigorated, vibrant and glorious.

“How my Father Creator and Mother Earth have blessed me with my trees.  How They have Blessed my Trees with me. Praise you Heavens and Stars and Universe.  Praise you Sun, Moon, and Rain, and Soil.  Praise you All for Wind and the Warmth of this Sacred Fire.  Praise you for the Friendship and the Generosity of Those who whisper me awake, and who give their very wood so that I might live.”

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