Talking to Trees: Exploring the Medicine of the Tree Nation ONLINE INTENSIVE starts October 1!

Talking to Trees: Exploring the Medicine of the Tree Nation

8 week online intensive

$150-$200 sliding scale

 October 1, 2011- November 26, 2011

Back by popular demand!  I have had several folks request another run of Talking to Trees- so here's your chance! 

Grandmother of Oak trees

Join herbalist, tree lover, and wild woman Darcey Blue for an online intensive all about the Trees!  8 weeks of lessons, personal correspondence with Darcey, and community of sharing and learning for the duration of the course!  

• Learn about 20 of the major medicinal trees of North America

o Ecology and biology

o Energetic, medicinal and practical uses

o harvesting, preparations, medicine making

o Tree essences

o folklore and more

• Make your own medicinal oils, tinctures, teas and smudges

• Learn how to identify and work with trees unique to your bioregion

• Share experiences and learning with other herb students, herbalists and plant lovers.

Weekly lessons sent via e-mail, and group discussion on an e mail list forum is expected as part of the course. Please plan to devote 2-4 hours of time per week to this intensive.  Readings, journalling, time spent with trees around you and medicine making assignments all take time.  This is a hands on and experiential intensive, you will get out of it what you put into it.  The best way to learn about plants, including trees is to spend time with them, around them and getting to know them.  Please be ready to dive in with excitment!  

Some additional books and supplies are required for the course.  Syllabus available upon request.  

Please register with a $50 deposit by Sept 30, 2011 by e mailing shamana.flora@gmail.com

Space is limited, so register as soon as you are ready to commit!  

Full course payment expected by Oct 1, 2011 unless a payment plan is previously arranged.  No refunds available after Oct 8.

Save your spot in the course with a deposit now!

Aspen

 Populus tremuloides: Quaking Aspen.

A shimmer in the lace of the woods. Stark not-quite-white bark reaching tall, slender as paintbrushes. Hues of dull apple green tint the air suggesting ghosts of winter. Fruits hang in servitude. Claw shaped buds once sticky with resin crack open in silent celebration of solar rays. Catkins dust pollen generously like confectioner's sugar.

 Tribal marks in the landscape, streaking vernal pools and river bends. Songbirds take solace in the graceful, knobby arms. Powdery thin skin breathing in the sky, breathing out spring. Sturdy cracked ankles and fallen twigs. A beaver feast, beaver home. Canopy for forest flowers.

 Child of the great Willow family, traits like cousin Gilead. Pain soothing oils mark faint stains on old clothes. Bark tea sipped by Grandma, rocking in her chair in the humid twilight. Bright eyed child running wild, too wild; binds strong fomentation along a fractured wrist. Aspen whispers in April. Quakes in May. Shimmies in summer. Autumn's yellow skirt is too short.

 Trembling in visitations with breezes, shaking off nerves and fears. Warm ground holds steady. Papery hearts tickle with sound. Bitter thoughts warding off facades of humans. Innocent soils shared, enough is plenty.

 Great roots holding hands. Waters cleaned, turtles hide. Rich in history, stories of thaw, freeze, and burn. Morels play in May while ancient cultures multiply in microscopic millions. Fairies weave tapestries of mycelia and set them out to catch raindrops. Leprechauns tell jokes under thunderclouds. Fast in the wind fly cottony seeds, carrying with them a biodegradable future. Small wishes of mayflies copulate.

 Bent beauty, leaning ways, graceful unison. Spring fever cured and summer whims commence. Aspen reaches inside for strength, determining each color to paint the skyline. From all four winds of the continent, she dazzles the land. Hold her tusks as the animal of wisdom and courage. Travelling native, you quiver elegance.

White Pine Oblation

Your Magesty

I am listening.

I am at your service.

Guide me right for healing.

What lovely cones you bear,

with jewels ancient and glossy.

What fragrant sweet perfume you wear,

your needles sewn with care.

You are regal, yet humble,

a forest sorceress.

You heal and feed,

and soothe every need,

A ministree, you are.

My Queen,

I see the peace in your arms

as you stroke the winters chill

as you caress away the ills.

I feel the cure in my throat

as a tingly coat

and a balm to my every wound.

Your spell casting gaze

and owl hiding ways

I honor and offer you praise.

May I speak for you, touch for you

weave a fancy tale

for you, lead me through

the labyrinth of troubles

with your color of emerald;

a poultice on my soul.

I am listening, speak

whisper, to me through your shape,

body, sap, seeds, and needle. Roots like

lovers to rocks and branches like whirling dervishes

reaching yet bowing

floating yet steadfast

ever green yet evolving

prehistoric yet prophecy,

Commanding presence and quest,

seeker and song.

I am listening, opening, to you

My Emerald Queen.