Of Trees and Talk

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“Hey, do you want to talk to a tree?” I asked the very bored 7-year-old.
He looked at me skeptical-like, so I asked again.
“Do you wanna go talk to that old tree over there?”
We had just learned that this was a sacred place to the Pawnee people,
And this beautiful Bur Oak was the oldest tree for miles around,
Maybe even the oldest tree in the state.
"OK." His eyes perked up a bit and we walked down to the tree.
“Put your hand on her bark.”
He did.
“Now say Hi and introduce yourself.”
He did.
“What did she say?”
“I can’t hear anything.”
“You have to listen with your heart, not your ears. Try again.”
He did.
“She said Hello!”
His eyes were wide and he smiled excitedly.
So we stayed there, talking to the wise old tree until his auntie called him.
“Your Dad’s waiting for you--go!”
I apologized for keeping him too long.
“Sorry, we were just talking to the tree.”
“We know what you were doing, but his Dad’s waiting for him.”
Like it was a perfectly normal thing to hold a conversation with a tree.
Later that night, his Dad--our chief--joined my elder cousins and me
In our hotel room.
He told us stories, we all laughed and told more stories.
Then Cousin D told me to tell him about his son and the old tree.
I did.
He nodded approvingly and then told us about the time when a tree talked to him
During a Sun Dance.
And another cousin told her story about talking to a tree.
Like it was the most perfectly normal thing in the world
To hold a conversation  with a tree.
I love my tribe.