How incredibly wise Nature is. All we have to do is learn to observe, listen, and attune ourselves, and the information comes magically, as if everything around us—plants, trees, birds, animals—is eager to communicate. As if they want to assure us…
“Yes, we are here too, a whole world beside you. Can you hear us?”
I sit on my bench in the park. Sweet chirping…
“I’m sorry I don’t recognize your tongue. Maybe you are swallows, but certainly little birds, such delicate voices. ‘Sparrows,’ a voice inside me says.”
I close my eyes. The park gives me peace, my Volos gives me peace. Thank you… Grateful…
“But where do you get your information from?” I ask the trees.
An image comes to me: Small and large roots spreading deep into the earth, dark, muddy, fertile soil. The soil of Magnesia’s land, the soil that priests took at the Asclepieia, planted herbs that goats ate and produced “magnetized” milk, with which they fed the pariahs, the great golden therapeutic snakes they used for their treatments.
“So from there, you get everything?”
“Of course. From where else? From the Ancient Earth…”
