Aspen trees have been speaking to me this year. Our conversation started back in June, when I was on silent retreat at the Rocky Mountain Eco Dharma Center in Colorado. Since I pack away my technology while on retreat – no phone, laptop, or camera use – I don’t have photographs to “back up” my experience.
But I do bring my journal to process illuminating conversations with Nature that never fail to emerge when I orient towards stillness and listen with every fiber of my being. This journal entry from June 13 is one example:
Sitting by a bridge over a rushing stream. Sun is streaming through the young chartreuse aspen leaves above. It was the aspen leaves who really called me to stop. They are soaking in the morning sun, just like me. Translucent, illuminated, except where other leaves overlap into shadow. But the shadows are ever changing.
The leaves are mostly in motion – trembling, waving, dancing in the breeze, even when I can’t feel the air’s movement from my perch. Stagnation is an illusion. We may not be able to feel movement and the force of change from where we are sitting, especially if we are not stopping intentionally to pay attention, to deepen our awareness of ourselves, the environment, and the world.
Nature offers us a celebration to tap into when we can’t find one in our life at the moment. The shadows are not stagnant either.
Unlike leaves, which are literally stuck in one spot at the stem (but still manage to dance!), we can take intentional action to shift, to notice what’s blocking the light, and open ourselves to forward movement. Or to accept where we are and shift the angle of our perception to see the gifts and opportunities that a shadow might offer.
Shadows add interest and depth. They cool us down when we’re hot. And though one aspect of our life may be in shadow, other areas are like the unhindered, unblocked part of the aspen leaves – illuminated, joyful, still dancing despite the partial and temporary shadows.
All of that was written when the aspen leaves were backlit from my original sitting spot. When I walked around to the other side of the tree, there were hardly any shadows at all! How easy it was to transform my point of view with just the slightest effort and curiosity.
Somewhere in those conversations back in June, a seed of inspiration sprouted to return to Colorado in the fall with my camera to dance with the transformative energy at play in the mountains, and the aspen trees in particular. I fulfilled that intention in September for the first of what I know will be many return photography visits.
In my next blog post, I will share some of my favorite images from my play date with the aspens. In the meantime, here’s a minute-long gift of their songs. Turn up the volume and listen to them sing as you take in the joy of their dance!
