The Cumulation of a Decade of Weird, California Style

Let me start slow. I don't want to come off sounding arrogant or worse, insincere. I am an adventurous person, and I think very chill because of it. Perhaps that's why for the past ten years I have called California my home; chased out of the South because of my love of exploration of the mind. We must remember that in the early 2000's the world was a much different place though change is still slow in the South. I remember working at a ski resort in Colorado for the winter season in 2001 (people don't seem to use the term ski-bum anymore, it seems, as I always get strange looks and have to explain that no I actually wasn't technically a bum but yes did ski) and people getting raided by SWAT teams with assault rifles because of having a few grow lights in their chateau. And this was in the small town the band The String Cheese Incident was from. We put up with it back then and lived under the constant shadow of fear, ready to go down for our beliefs at any given moment but trying damn hard to not look paranoid in the meantime. And so it was in these times that many of us went to the woods seeking solace. Tired of being chased, tired of others worrying so intently about our lives. Ready to ascertain the message from so many visions obtained from countless quests. I could go on. Long story short, the woods called us, those who could hear anyway, away from the turbulent vibrations of the city. It was necessary for many to find the healing vibrations of nature, and confront the many perilous truths which lay in wait, just beyond the veil of our perceived reality.

And so it was with a heavy heart I left my friends in both flesh and under the cyberdome (many here at the Forums) and ventured off into the deep wood. Such a quest is hardly possible in this day in age, but at the dawn of the 21st century cell phones had yet to be everywhere and their reception outside of city lines was comical. The snarled oaks, however, were a constant companion through the many places I've stayed along the way, inter-mixed with coastal pines of North Carolina, rural white birch of Maine, high aspens of Colorado, and manzanitas & madrones of Northern California. The snarled oak as a symbol of endurance cannot be beat, and what mysteries it has witnessed...if only these trees could talk.

I can talk. I can communicate their message. I have lived with the trees longer and know them better than most people. It is said that the honey mushroom grows to immense proportions in the forests of Colorado, and the mycelium network connects trees in a sort-of neural network where shared experience is the norm. Oak, in fact is known to secrete toxins out of the roots when other plant species try to infringe on it's monopolization of selected ground. Not poison oak, but just good ol' regular Oak, similar to Creosote Bush in the desert. This indicates perceptive ability in some form, and also a response pattern. In fact, I was able to once actually see the consciousness stream emanating out of the top of pyramidal pine trees, the other constant companion along my long, winding road. Each tree emitting light, pure white light shining up into the heavens like the Luxor in Las Vegas. Why can't we see this all the time, I wondered, and still wonder. I also saw a faerie, a menacing troll, had interactions with extraterrestrials, and a giant rock hurled at me by bigfoot.

The first of these four discussions, the faerie folk, are what I will address next time. And in each subsequent installment, I will discuss the remaining. G'night chaps.

 

well i grew up in the pine and mixed forests of the sierras in northern california. never did care much for hot southern climates, nor needed nor wished to be around a lot of other humans.
i live in northern nevada now. still not far from my sierras though, just a few miles on the other side. i have a small page of the handwriting of the people who live inside of trees. of course its not a language any human that i know of has ever learned to read. of course its written by barkworms on the inside of a bit of bark that fell off. all the twisting passages remind me of the kind of world i'd rather live in.

 

My dad lived in the sierras around bishop. It was after Vietnam he was mental as heck and needed to just be away from the world. He saw amazing things up there. He always had through his life. He befriended a bear and spoke to little people. He one day just "woke up" and came back to civilization.

 

civilization is an illusion, but it is one with the strength of being shared.
i didn't grow up a hermit. (went to public school like every other kid that lived there)
just in very small towns along a major highway and rail line,
that were within easy walking distance of dense mixed mountain woodland wilderness.
(most with populations less then a few thousand but most of them more then a hundred)

 

I really want to read about his four stories, but he hasn't been back since he placed this post here on Nov 19th, 2017. I wonder what happened to him..............................

 

had that on 8-track. still remember it. there's a stan schmitz; trigger argee and telzey amberdon story called compulsion, about siren trees and old galactics that i read along about the same time that song was released in the very early 70s, that i tend to assocate with each other. (had all 7 of the origeonal moody blues albums on 8 trak. waaay back when)