Voices of the Earth - oak
Imagine you are sitting in a circle of 50 small Oaks, grown from the acorns of 7000 Oaks planted by Joseph Beuys, hundreds of miles away in Kassel, Germany. This is where our Voices of the Earth journey began. The Oaks arrived in Global Generation’s Story Garden a year ago, carrying with them a message of social and environmental change. They wrapped around us and silently spoke to us, encouraging us to go slow. They brought to us an age old call; reminding us to create space for open mindedness, a space beyond barriers and prejudice. In their brittle branches they carried warnings about the fallout of holding knowledge and power in fixed and oppressive ways. Through Oak, Marigold, Sugar Cane, Thyme, Daisy, Ash and Yarrow along with many more wild and not so wild plants, we found a different kind of time, beyond this time. We began to listen to what these plants had to say to us.
This blog from Jocelyn Vick Maeer, one of GG’s young Voices of the Earth Fellows, is the first of seven reflections on the healing power of plants that we will be posting this week.
We were lucky with the weather. It was one of the hot days that were rare this July, and nature was at its high point, giving us gifts of berries and flowers, colours, fragrance and warmth. We had gathered on Hampstead Heath, the best place to be on a day like this, with an excuse to stay for hours. Our group was made up of Voices of the Earth Fellows, families and people involved with the Caversham Medical Centre in Kentish Town - a GPs practice that recognises the healing power of nature.
As we walked across the Heath, from the grassy edge at Highgate Road towards the woods, we picked out the yarrow from the wild carrot and were dazzled by the brilliant purple of the rosebay willowherb. Bright yellow flowers popped out from the grass, and the trees' leaves complimented the blue sky in a way I can't articulate and found it hard to look away from. Why is that combination so beautiful? We entered the woods in silence, enjoying the cool shade and the dappled sunlight that painted the ground. As we walked, I relished in the ability, new to me this year, to distinguish and name some of the trees and plants we walked past, and picked ripened blackberries at every chance.
When I look back now, I realise that Hampstead Heath frames so many of my teenage memories. One year, just after I began attending school by Gospel Oak, my mum gave me the gift of a season ticket for the swimming pool I could see from my classroom windows, and I swam there nearly every day. When we were allowed out for lunch, we went to the Heath, and hung out there after dark too. It was like going to school in the countryside. On one snowy day, I even took a plastic spade sledge with me to ride down Parliament Hill. It was a welcome contrast from my home in urban King’s Cross where, although there are a good number of small parks and squares, there is nowhere really wild; wild like the Heath.
After walking a while, we paused to listen and respond to a story Rod told, about a stream transforming itself to mist so it could cross a desert. We walked and paused again, this time sitting in a circle beneath an old Oak tree. Jane introduced this new place and this Oak tree, and invited us to write from the perspective of the Oaks, imagining what an old Oak might say to the young Oaks. Here is what Pamela, one of the Caversham patients, wrote; compared to my two and a half decades Pamela has eight decades of lived experience from which to share:
My children - so recently acorns from my branches - you are now so widespread. To you who have taken root, be courageous and true to your roots and prosper - you maintain the land. Some of you will give your life to serve as boats and shelters and be of use to others. Do not grieve we all have a purpose.
We who have survived to stand sturdy in the land have grown to great heights and will act as a heritage and guard our survival forever. You may not have a choice where you will grow or what will be your path - but remain true to the beauty and strength of your nature
- Pamela Strong
I wrote about how city oaks, like the ones in the Story Garden, are isolated from the oaks of the forest; an isolation I too experience when I am in King’s Cross. Despite their isolation, the city oaks have a significant role to play.
You have an important role to play at this moment in history . Humans are starting to recognise again our importance for their own survival. We have an opportunity to bring to them a message, an old message that has been taken away and forgotten. It is a message which they can intuit from deep within their being. Everything connects.
You oaks in the city centre will have the hardest time of this, you will not be able to connect to the web beneath the soil which we know and nourish through our roots. But you share the air between you and you can cultivate spirit and space for humans to connect to themselves and to all else that is.
- Jocelyn
Sitting in the circle, surrounded by grasses and insects, trees and birds, stones and soil, the vast difference in experience between these old Oaks and the young ones at the Story Garden, standing in pots in a very different circle, came into sharp focus. One of the mothers who joined the Voices of the Earth journey with her children wrote this about her experience of being in the Oak in the Story Garden.
My family and I have enjoyed being part of the Voices of the Earth. Sitting in the Oak Circle in the Story Garden taught us how much we need to be in touch with nature, how amazing plants are and how our connection with our environment transcends the purely physical. We also realised how disconnected we have become from these realities to the detriment of social, biological and spiritual wellbeing. The project highlighted what we are capable of when different communities come together.
- Ayaan
Due to the spread of processionary oak moth in London boroughs, there are now limitations on where oaks of any description can travel. Due to the quarantine the Beuys Oaks, which are part of a travelling exhibit, needed to stay in London and found sanctuary in the Story Garden. As I write this, I am sitting in a glade of Oak. Looking around, I see that the oaks are not alone, but are joined by pine, elm, ash, other trees I can’t identify, as well as all the smaller plants that grow in the earth between the stones. A dragonfly passes by, butterflies flit through the air and flies buzz around me, landing from time to time. There is power in this diversity, in the balance that it brings. The earth speaks of continuity and resilience. Joseph Beuys said that our cities must become “forest-like”. I understand this as the need to grow more than just trees; diversity, resilience and justice are some of the qualities that come to mind.
Oaks can live for thousands of years, and they were on this island whilst it was still attached by land bridges to mainland Europe by which animals and people made their way. Here you can listen to the message of the Old Oaks to the Young Oaks:
This sound design, by Complicité sound designer Daniel Balfour, was created out of the work of children, young people and adults involved in the Voices of the Earth Project.
Each of the seven Voices of the Earth audio pieces were created as an invitation for you to spend time in Camden’s Green Spaces, listening to nature’s voices. Download the audio map here.
A puncture is not how I envisioned starting the day, no one ever does. They always seem to happen when you’re in a rush, people are expecting you, and the weather is particularly…challenging.