Feeling good

Why am I smiling?

Because I’m planting.

Because the red wheelbarrow has she-oak seedlings in it.

Not only that, it also has the plastic bags, mulch mats and bamboo stakes that are required to protect each young tree during the first three years of its growth from rabbits, wallabies, wind and competing grass.

When the owner of the Puchella nursery found out that I couldn’t afford what I had ordered from him, he simply said that what was more important was that the trees get into the ground; the money could be paid later. He also took $100 off what was owed as his way of supporting the Parliament House Vigil.

My friend, Jess, has also sent money over from Melbourne stating:

“I’m working at the Restaurant every night this week, and what better way to spend the money I earn than on something benefiting the planet.”

The land thanks each of them. The baby trees thank them. And I thank them.

So now, part of each day will be given over to planting out this year’s 365 she-oaks and some 35 blackwood trees. Generally, I’ll work in my studio in the morning and then, later in the day, take two to three hours to plant out 50 trees.

Ironically, however, the nicer the weather, the earlier I have to get started in order to put in the same 50 trees because the tendency is to find more excuses to sit and admire the excellent work rather than doing the work.

All I can say is that it is a good thing that I’m the boss man around this place. On a really, really nice day, especially a clear day with no wind and where I take a thermos of hot tea plus a tin of baked cookies, it might take forever to put in just 25 trees. But boy, do those trees feel looked after and prayed over.

As proud as I am of my artistic endeavours and the sculptures that come out of my studio, nothing quite equals the honest satisfaction of putting into the ground several hundred life forces for the planet’s and our future.

Think about this. For each tree that goes into the ground, I have to kneel down to put it into the newly dug hole. Even if I didn’t say a prayer for each tree (which I do), just the prayerful pose of kneeling would do something energetically to both the tree and the planter.

At the end of September, when I’ll have dropped down on my knees 400 times, this will be the equivalent of eight years of going to church on Sunday. I pray to baby Tree instead of baby Jesus.

And since this year will mark the four thousandth tree planted, one could almost say that I have already done a lifetime of prayerful work.

No wonder I feels good.