The first spark for this practice happened on Vancouver Island during a deeply emotional time. I was there to visit my Godfather, who was very ill. One afternoon, as I approached a grove of cedar trees, I suddenly felt a profound, unexplainable sense of welcome and peace.
Curious, I stepped closer and reached out to touch the bark of the nearest tree. In that moment, a wave of genuine joy washed over me. It was a beautiful realization that we possess a deep, natural capacity to connect with the living world around us. For the first time, I saw these trees as cognizant beings, and it completely changed how I understand closeness and connection.

The second moment occurred during the isolation of the COVID-19 lockdowns. One morning, feeling the weight of the world, I looked out my window and noticed a thick mist rolling over the far meadow. The sight instantly made me feel a bit lighter.
Driven by curiosity, I wondered why I felt such joy, and realized the mist covered the back part of the meadow, and it looked like I was approaching a look out point. It felt expansive. I decided to take a drive high up into the local Highlands. There, standing tall against the gray sky, was a beautiful stand of old Black Spruce trees. Seeing them reach so high brought an unexpected surge of joy and hope. Making that drive became an essential lifeline for me during the lockdown.