These massive Bur Oaks were speaking to me, in fact, weeping, their pain searing my heart, jerking me from my own misery. 

Eight of these giants formed two parallel lines along a hidden area of a hundred year old cemetery, of which the city had now grown around.  Their bark was thick, maybe 8 or 10 inches, their limbs were the size of tree trunks, turning and twisting in various directions as only Bur Oak limbs can.  These giants didn’t quite reach to the heavens, but their energy did.  And forest fairies danced among their boughs.  To me, they were god in form, receptors bringing other worldly information to earth. 

These godly sentinels calmed and comforted me, lifted my pain, soothed my tears when life “out there” was too much.  They understood me.  I drew strength from them, having sought shelter in their embrace for a decade or more. 

Now, these gentle giants were clearly speaking of their demise, “telling” me that their time was limited—an oak alarm!  Feeling the pain of these giants was as if I were one of them, or one with them; their pain and mine were so intertwined. My rational mind stepped in: a cemetery is a safe place, sacred, untouchable?  But already I had observed a bulldozed older section, partially-exposed coffins and headstones tilted to and fro. 

The Burs continued to infuse me with more alarming information.  Time and space disappeared.  Although rattled, my wondering jumped alive the minute I was grounded back in the physical.  As I reluctantly departed, questions exploded:  Is this real?  Am I crazy?  Do trees really talk?  My God, how could I ever speak of this experience?  All I knew, as I dragged myself home, was that my heart hurt. My childhood fantasy was to live in the treetops, as high as possible.  I had always measured the quality of life by the number of trees present.  I just couldn’t imagine life without “my” oaks. 

Shortly, I left the country to work overseas for two years.  During this time, a brief stateside trip provided the means to visit The Smithsonian.  My soul/sole interest had been a display on old growth forests.  Within minutes of arriving, my attention was drawn to a video on the subject.  A camera was panning over miles and miles of ancient forests.  I watched with intrigue, while well aware that excessive logging was reducing old growth forests at an unsustainable rate. 

While I watched and wondered, suddenly, like a hologram, I was witnessing a different image overlaying the video, one of all the old growth forests being destroyed, all trees on the planet toppled and tossed and heaved in one fell swoop. I turned and stumbled down the stairs to the entrance and into the sunshine.  Another undeniable oak alarm!  

My two years overseas, where I had come to cherish the tropical trees as much as my oaks, came to an end.  I returned briefly to the city, my first stop being the cemetery.  Following a familiar trail through an obscure area of the forest preserve, and ducking under a rusty old fence, hesitantly I looked up to connect to my trees.  I so wanted to believe they and all the elementals they supported would be there to greet me.  Concrete-cold condominiums stood in their place, reaching to the sky, but not in any way to heaven.  Like ghosts, the spirit of my beloved oaks lingered.  Small comfort!  But there was no room for disbelief.  They had told me.  While I understood their energy was implanted in my heart, still I wept.
  

Almost immediately, life took me to Alaska.  That’s when my Nostradamus visions first came forth. I’d be awakened in the middle of the night, by a now familiar force.  Night after night I was shown “videos” of the future. They came fiery harsh: black, red and strange gold colors, horrific sounds, and feelings of unimaginable changes on earth—terrifying changes.  An all-encompassing oak alarm!  One night, I beseeched, “Why am I being shown the future?”  I was informed, “So you will be prepared when the time comes.” 

Last week I went to my preferred retreat, a petite lake high in the mountains far from the madding crowd.  The lake houses an otter family, and giant spruce and pine define the perimeter.  Intuition revealed even as I parked my vehicle that things had changed since my last visit in the late fall.  Immediately upon the path, I noticed that a tree here was stressed, one over there dead.  The more I climbed the steep hill, the more I saw that the majority of trees were in various states of dying.  And where I should have been viewing a green carpet across the mountain slopes, I saw shades of brown and gray.  Once at the lake, I noticed many of the giant of giants were now dead, others close behind.   My thoughts were drawn to my Bur Oaks and my Nostradamus visions.  I had no reaction.  I had been trained well—trained to expect change, yet have no reaction. 

Then too I keep an eye on the pines around my area. Last year there were only a few browning spirits dotting the landscape.  This year one tree after another dead!  Junipers and a few firs remain.  Everywhere these great energy receptors, these great bringers of divine energy, are disappearing—indicators of the great changes upon us.  Oak alarms are sounding across the planet.
 

Now, all the trees in the world, every minute, night and day, are tuning me into this Gulf “accident’.  This Gulf phenomenon is wreaking havoc like nothing we’ve ever seen.  No one will be left unaffected. This is a global matter.  This is such a monumental oak alarm.  A wake-up call of all wake-up calls.  What do we do?  What can we do?
 

I don’t judge.  I don’t condemn.  I don’t react. I watch and listen and wonder.  Fear is not the way.  Understanding is.  I look to the sky for understanding.  Oak Alarm!!!  Time to wake up!  But we must ask, “What is this really about?” and “What does it have to do with me?”   Like giant oaks, it’s time for all of us to tune into the heavens and hold that space of consciousness here on earth.

Losing our connection to nature has left humanity to lose sight of its core self.  We come back home to nature, we come back home to self.  Like the trees, the time is now for us all to tune into the heavens.

I watch world events as they unfold while staying tuned to a greater understanding, focusing on what humanity has to learn from all this…knowing that we all have agreed to be here at this time.   Whatever it takes to bring us home, is whatever it takes.  Without question, the winds of change are upon us.  THE TIME IS NOW!