Clearly, he was asking for it (the tree that is). And yes, I submitted to his charms

I've had a thing for trees for as long as I can remember. As a very small child growing up in Hillside, NJ (one of many places) I can remember a very large oak tree in front of our house. I recall having communion with it. I would park my rear end at its base and let the ants crawl up my arms, it protected me and gave me shade. It was good cheap fun. Then one day a crew came and took it down, piece by piece. I was crestfallen – I had lost my first best friend.

More recently, I'd spent the last few years in distress every spring rescuing fledglings. Their parents, a beautiful cardinal couple, had made their home in a couple of overgrown "trees" in my backyard. I qualify that because after some research I found they were an invasive species of tree brought over in the early part of the last century – weeds really. They were unsightly and given they provided shelter to the birds, whose children were being murdered by the feral cats I care for in my yard, I made the not so difficult decision to take those overgrown weeds down (don't worry the cardinal couple relocated and still visit me). While I now have more light in my backyard and far fewer dead birds, I did not anticipate the grief I felt looking at the vacant space they once occupied. It took me weeks to adjust.

In the last year, I've been going through some very deep and personal seasons of growth. These machinations have been accompanied by feelings of tightness in my abdomen – anxiety maybe, who knows. That's where the tree fella in this picture comes in. In my morning walks, I passed this guy at least 3 times. He's the only one in the park with this sign on him. At first, I was demure, what will people think after all? Then I finally relented, I sat at its base and tucked my back against its bark, and voila as if by magic I felt all the tension sucked out of my body as if by a straw. It was a remarkable feeling.

So now, that's just a part of what I do. I care much less about the "steps" I get in. And I'm still working on not giving a crap what people think. The relief I feel in my body is proof enough for me to make time for my beloved, therapeutic friend in the park.

If you give this a try, write me back and let me know how you feel. Here in the northeast, it's getting cold. What are your suggestions for staying connected to the earth's spirits during these months? I'm all ears.