The Waye of the Tree

The Waye of the Tree is personal,
exhilarated by nature and the atmosphere of beauty, peace and tranquillity.
The Waye of the Tree is universal,
it inspires the poet
it teaches through metaphor
it contributes to commerce.
The tree is not expendable
~ it is Life ~
We know the importance of trees, yet still one wonders
how to make a difference.
I have taught about climate change and global warming since 1989.
What do you choose? What is your way? How do we, harmonise with our world?
This book is a witness to the magnificence of Earth’s
Treasure, somewhere at the end of a rainbow.

Rainbow4

Photography: Mark Maserow & Nodi Ipp

The Waye of the Tree

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1. tribute

in the garden of Glenwaye
a gracious and imposing presence
conversed with my soul.
my friend the Pine Tree,
of shadows and light
all seasons at night,

I sensed your whisper in the breeze
I heard you howl in the storm,
I cracked and eat your ‘dannepips’

in wonder
we played and dreamed

my Friend,
You baked in shimmering summer heat
so I could have your shade.

The Pine2

Trees, in forests and glens,
beside lake and stream
on mountain peaks
or laden with snow,
in fields of spring
delight and flow

and there on a slope below
the amphitheatre of Table Mountain
on a rock at his uncle’s,
a child’s innocence awakened
a dream memory

of silence
floating through, the
impenetrable pines
enchanted on a winged song
of distant murmurs, and whispers
dreamed by a forest
in the space between Trees

paper bark2

[dannepips – Anglicised for pine nuts]

2. process

On a soft and slow Sunday afternoon, a dove coos and memory floods. Can it be me in the pram under my Friend? No it‟s probably my sister with whom I cooed. I remember sitting on the lawn under the dappled shade of our Pine Tree surrounded by blue. The vast Atlantic stretched to the western horizon and the sky rose in a dome etched by
Lions Head and the Twelve Apostles. When my parents built our house they left the tall Pine in front. My Friend stands statuesque in my memory, always part of my family. He was the home and the launching pad for the stories told by my father. Pinky Poo the fairy and Zinky Zoo the squirrel were always off to do good and help someone in need. A few years after our house was sold my Friend the Pine Tree became famous for a brief moment in time. The new owner decided to build a tree house to improve his already amazing view of the ocean, beach and mountains. I’d have loved to do that myself, but it was not to be. So after the neighbours put the pressure on the press took a photo of my Friend’s new house. The owner, you see, was a well known public figure. I was in Australia when I got the press photograph and I remembered everything. I suppose after a thrust and a parry, a duck and a dive, a wrangle and an interdict the owner took the tree house down and some time after that my Friend was gone too. No more danneballs, no more squirrels, no more silhouettes against the silvery sunset, no more shade on a searing December afternoon. But, they left a stump on the pavement. It’s okay, you see, for you were old my Friend. Your growth had been slowing. You’d been cut a lot and well, you and me, life just moved us on. The tides and currents changed.

On Sundays in winter my parents took our family and friends into the tall forests around Cape Town. Bitingly fresh air carried tones of tree silence, rainy grey, honey brown pools and waterfalls, rocks to clamber and hide and jump, leaves to crunch. In the presence of a slow and spacious spell, scents and memory drifted between the branches, mingling all of us with their stories, their identities. We were in wonder and in love – contented. I was Alive deep in my soul.

“Say it again Nodi!”
“Hout Bay”, somehow I said it in a way that totally captivated my mother and I could never understand what it was, even to this day. We would be driving the long way round, via the strawberries of Longkloof Farm Stall, that lovely old gabled building on the way up to Constantia Neck, on our way to Muizenberg for Sunday swimming in „warm‟ water. She’d always ask me when we got to the bottom of the Suikerbossie stretch of Victoria Road where Plane and Oak Trees line both sides of the road. The sunlight pours through the archway of shining green leaves like the Garden of Eden in resplendent magic. I totally loved the luminescence of this spring delight and so did my family. These trees made such a strong impression on people that when the council wanted to cut them down to widen the roads, the public outcry stopped the plans. Now the slower traffic offers a close look at the splendid seasonal show of Oak Plane beauty bequeathed to us by the love of Trees.

3. naming

The Waye of the Tree is subliminal. Townships and homes without Trees feel empty. Trees nurture our hearts and they stimulate our minds. Many treasure memories of „Their Tree‟ who enriched their life, their sense of self and their very identity.

It is in some of the forests across the planet that the tingling of my cells felt a sense of Unity awakening to Resonance. I acknowledge and affirm the magic and the power of the Tree – on the Eastern slopes of Cape Town’s Twelve Apostles, the coast of Southern Oregon and Northern California, in the snow of a German Forest, along the South Western Coast of Australia, in the surrounds of Auckland New Zealand, across Canada from Lake Superior to Vancouver and in the forests of the Garden Route on the East Coast of South Africa. The Waye of the Tree is a teaching and I invite you to incarnate it’s power with the voice of your thoughts in the Song of Naming – chant it, intone it as a cascading waterfall of onomatopoeia bubbling between the rocks in the river of time. Sing the song of trees!

Yellowwood Outeniqua
Redwood Sequoia
Kauri, Mallee
Birch and Bougainvillea

Ash, Bay, Beech and Maple
Eucalyptus, Paper Bark
Peppermint and Apple

Mango, Tupelo
Orange and Cherry
Pear, Apricot,
Guava and Mulberry

Peach and Sandalwood,
Fig and Red Gum
Almond, Olive
Avocado and Plum

Jarrah, Cedar
Kiwi and Marri
Protea, Jacaranda
Rubber and Karri

Tuart, Flame and Norfolk Pine
Kokerboom and Baobab,
Keerboom, Oak and Assegai

Dryandra, Balga
Waratah and Wattle
Banyan, Banksia
Zamia and Grevillea

Geebung, Tingle and Carob
Ginko, Hakea and Boab

Dragon’s Blood and Cycad,
Sycamore and Cypress
Dogwood, Poplar and Palm

Cork and Pine
Walnut and Chestnut
Grapefruit, Lemon and Lime

Laurel and Fern
Holly and Hemlock
Juniper, Joshua, Judas and Frangipani

Spruce and Willow,
Marula and Mistletoe
Milkwood, Bottlebrush
Ironwood and Stinkwood

Silver Leaf and Larch
Elm and Yew,
and the ancient Magnolia too,
and the ancient Magnolia too.

IMG_6931

4 . flourishes

The Tree has dignity, a grace of living, a humility in its standing. The Tree stands firm. It gives without expectation, without grandiosity. The Waye of the Tree is to be tall and strong, full of awe. Shade. The Tree, without fanfare, without words, ‘speaks’, that truth be told.

adorn and bud
flower and fruit,
ripe and succulent
beauty and youth.

crisp firm apple
peach blossom scents
scarlet plum bursts
cherry crimson spurts
wet sensual mango
an orange morning
freshly squeezed.

the Tree receives
everything life gives.
it responds with flow and dance
to the forces of Time.

flexible like a Yogi.
solid like a Mountain.
gentle as a Lamb.
inclusive as a Mother.
the Tree is awake,
like Life.

Photo0317

The Waye of the Tree is The Way of Compassion, giving freely what is taken, never complaining. In life a beacon, in death an inspiration ever offering succour and rest in its crevices and curves. On a branch sits a small winter bird, ruffled and silent in the rain, awaiting a gap in the heavily laden clouds to sing its song of hope. Leaf droplets hang in perfect symmetry, glistening in the shifting light. Gently lean your face into the cold fresh droplets and be caressed by nature. Stretch out your tongue and drink, jewel by perfect jewel. And when the seasons change and summer beckons in the glade of a dappled leaf bed and the breeze dances and rustles resplendent shade through shining greens under a canopy inviting Beings to their very own Life, cricket song shimmers in the baking heat slowing the day down into a dreamtime meditation that floats in a netherworld of awareness, mesmerised, leaves swaying the whole Tree. Subconscious thoughts of deep reserve let go. Mental constructs dismantle … their hold softens, relaxing into tenderness, flow, rapture, peace. Inhale the Universe and Exhale the Witness who whispers, “I see your Presence. You are Alive”. Such is the Waye of the Tree.

5. the Waye

on mountains high and valleys deep
across vast planes
and beside gurgling streams
glens invite
pastures sing,
an oasis, a jungle
in swamps, on shorelines

Trees line streets

they adorn gardens
parklands and meadows,
fields, thickets and dunes

they make an arboretum
an orchard
a plantation
and a wind break

strong and solid
tall and proud
silent and humble
the Tree is dignified

gnarled and bent
twisted and turned
scraggly and ragged
the Tree is resilient

Photo0235

it rustles in the breeze
and sways with the wind
it bends to the storm,
the Tree is flexible

stretching branches,
solid trunk
grounded roots,
the Tree is dependable

it draws up water
vaporising air
oxygen and carbon dioxide
its breath to share

a factory of foliage
green energy transforms
into roots and fruits and seeds
for the Tree is nourishment

leopards and chimpanzees
squirrels, birds and flying foxes
beetles, spiders and grubs
the Tree is home to all

path Tokai

its trunk for a mast
its pulp for our books
branches for a fire
the Tree is our friend

flower ambrosia harvested
by honey bees and butterflies
pollinating seeds,
for the Tree is life

under its spell
a mystery of symmetry.
lost in wonder
in natural symphony

a metaphor of pattern
a symbol of peace
an onomatopoeia of sound
the Tree is without judgement

when we climb it, it welcomes us
when we hug it, it is strong

Photo0330

when we play near it, it’s a friend
the Tree is accepting

speak and howl
call and chant
sing and dance
the Tree listens

sit below its branches
stand with its trunk
kneel beside its presence
the Tree is companion

we can dream its magic
we can meditate its voice
we can be its wisdom
for the Tree is me

roots, trunk, branches and twigs
heart, arteries, veins and capillaries
brain, spinal chord and nerves
the Trees in our body

they ground our pain
and shine their beauty
a Spiritual Companion
they do their duty

alive and resilient
for food and for breath
flexible and stable
they serve beyond death

Trees are for rest

and the forest is silent

2013-05-19 18.53.32

‘cept for bird song and breeze
and sprites, gnomes
fairies and goblins
hobbits, witches
and willow the wisp
so,
sit
listen
be still
balance
lie cushioned in leaves
hear whispers of wisdom
relax
let the muscles go
release

for the Tree is in me,
the Tree is true
the Tree is generous
and the Tree is in you

lichen and bark
harmony and flow
falling leaves compost
a life to grow

twixt a space of dreams
patterned texture and streams,
nurtured by nature.
the patience of a Tree
nourishes humans to be free

such is the Tree
such is its Waye
such is its Tao

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[Tao = The Way, pronounced Tdow – a guide for spiritual beings
having a human experience, Tao Te Ching, by ancient Chinese
philosopher Lao Tzu, spiritual, moral and natural.] © Nigel Ipp (Nodi) July 2010

6. blessings

generous and still

patient and accepting

giving and receiving

flexible and strong

The Tree inspires dreams
creativity and care
symbol and metaphor
its unity to share

It evokes magic
and manifests mystery.

The Tree stirs passion,
and serenades beauty.

It stands through Time
and it stands for Peace.

Blessings for Beings
immersed in
the Waye of the Tree

Ode to Trees

Dignified
Resilient
Flexible
Stable
Nourishing
Breath

Home
Friend
Giver
Receiver
Beauty
Without judgeme

IMG_5885

nt

Silent
Accepting
Creative
Listening
Patient

Present
True

Serving
Flowing
Magical
Transforming
Generous
Peaceful
For rest

Alive
LIFE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

© Nigel Ipp (Nodi) July 2010

Acknowledgments: the complete book has 42 pages each with photographs
Mark’s photographic vision, a long journey my friend. RS!

Dedication: My mother Greta, 14 July 1923, 66 years of light and beauty, flying free on 19 February 1990. In the subtle curve of a reed, your passion and vision inspired my love of nature. My father Danny born 24 December 1916, whose gentle stories on a rainbow of love, wove heart magic in the forests and streams of Cape Town.

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2 Responses to The Waye of the Tree

  1. Pat Lerena says:

    Love, love this ! Your tree is in you. Majestic tree, looks tall and proud. ‘Say it again, Nodi !’ Would love a copy of this.

    Like

    • nadiipp says:

      Thank you Pat, I honour all Tree’s and am humbled by what they give to us and how they give it! A pleasure and we’ll sort it on Friday!! 🙂

      Like

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