“Do I want to know what the sea writes? she thought, but at the same time she was already reading the foam, which though in vaguely cuneiform blobs rather than letters of any alphabet was perfectly legible as she walked along beside it.” -Ursula K. Le Guin (from a short story called “Texts”).
I was very happy to find the above quote, written, naturally, in the beautiful lyrical style of that noted author. I’ve always felt that exactly that was true. The mystical writings of the spirit in nature are visible on the leaves, in the patterns of twigs on the ground, on the sides of seed-pods, and on the surfaces of stone. The wind plays the trees as if they were stringed instruments, and it plays the stones like whistles. The water is its Etch A Sketch®! Nature is constantly writing in a language we can sense more than cognize.
As an example, below is an image (from an earlier article) of a Rhododendron leaf. It looks like a palimpsest from a old and musty archive. Oh, but to read its sacred script!
It doesn’t take a lot of imagination, though it does take imagination, to see or sense that these markings have the kind of order, structure, composition that seems purposeful and meaningful. Take a look at the progressive image analysis below and see if you can recognize not only the resemblance to some forms of human writing, but the feeling that these shapes have the balance and structure of a type of symbolism, albeit very abstract and perhaps mystical.
I suppose it’s the obvious resemblance between human writing and such markings on leaves, rocks, or seed-pods, that might prompt one to feel the natural markings to be a kind of communication. However, it seems more likely to me, that human scripts evolved out of imitation of nature. What other images would have been available?
The ancient ogham script poses a stylized resemblance to the veins of leaves (many of the letters of the ogham alphabet are the names of trees, shrubs or types of wood).
Tolkien’s elvish script resembles ogham, and, as you look further down, you’ll see it also resembles runes (which seems natural) and the Tibetan script, which I find fascinating. The Tibetan script, according to its creation story, was originally carved on a wooden or stone post, like ogham and runic scripts. It seems to me that these languages, which were originally carved in stone or wood, quite naturally reflect the qualities of those substrates, and in some ways look very like the substance of stone or wood. I think Tolkien’s refined it even further so that he’s created a script that truly mirrors the beauty of nature’s own esoteric, mystical hieroglyphs. It looks at once like vines growing over an old tumulus or up a huge old oak, or like trickles of water falling from someone’s cupped hands. It also bears a strong resemblance, in my view, to the veins of leaves, and looks to me like the foliage of a yew (see below for image).
There is some debate about which ogham letter may represent the yew tree. The two below are each a likely candidate, although Wikipedia (which may be more recent than other sources I find, and hopefully subject to pier review on this topic) shows the second of the two to be the yew. The Auraicept na N-Éces (page 277) lists the first as the yew.
Ogham Eadha (the same as english “e”)
Iodadh (yew)
As a further note of interest, this is the runic equivalent.
Eiwaz Rune (Proto-Germanic word for “yew”)
You may click on any of these images to read more about the individual alphabet character. The “Yew” rune above “is sometimes associated with the World tree Yggdrasil, which, imagined as an ash in Norse mythology, may formerly have been a yew or an oak. [from the article linked to the image]“ The yew is a very significant sacred image. It would make sense that Tolkien might have imitated its nature in his elvish script.
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What’s always fascinating to me is the order, in what we habitually view as chaos, that appears in nature, in twigs, on leaves, rocks, in clouds, on seed-pods, in the sand, etc. (for more on this subject, view the earlier posting, Beautiful Disorder). Below is an image taken from under a Douglas Fir on our property (see this page for an interesting ogham interpretation for Doug Fir).
It’s easy to see the shapes reminiscent of runic alphabets in these twigs, and some of our standard English alphabets as well. However, more interesting to me, is the clear perfection of balance and what artists refer to as “composition.” Nature does this everywhere it’s allowed to function unimpeded. To me, the above is pregnant with beauty and significance (see “casting yarrow stalks“), indicating a subtle, creative (even artistic) quality in nature’s most fundamental processes, such as the sloughing off of dead branches, buds, and seed cones. It’s no surprise at all to me that the creators of runes, ogham script, and Tolkien himself (who loved trees greatly) would want to imitate such pregnant beauty.
And if one remains adamant that nature is a material manifestation without a conscious center, then I’d like one to explain the following image, which loudly, humorously declares nature’s endless efforts to share her innate awareness with us!
Or, this:
So, it’s that consciousness in nature that manifests in the apparent mystical symbolization embedded in the shapes and qualities of leaves, rocks, stone, etc. Similarly, human writing and language is a form of conscious interaction between one’s soul and the natural world. It’s a way of acting spiritually in the physical sphere, recognizing that self-aware spirit is encased within this manifold shadow-show of form and formlessness. In a way, to clarify further, it’s a kind of way of weaving one’s thoughts and feelings into the fabric of the world through an external manifestation of private inner experiences. It’s almost like casting a spell or shaping an incantation in hopes that the magic of communication, more properly “communion,” will occur.
Speaking of mystical spells, what manner of magic is expressed in the following sticks found in a woods near our home (click to enlarge)?
If you look at the markings closely, you can see some shapes that actually look like an “unknown script.” Here is a negative image with contrast adjustment showing just the “spots” on the larger of the two sticks.
Now, selecting some of the various spots, we can actually form something that looks like writing.
Nature continually astounds me with its many seemingly human-centric images. Native Americans speak of this often, but much of what transpires in nature appears to be directly related to the actions of humans, in an effort either to balance those actions spiritually, or to in some way further the spiritual development of human beings.
As I’m writing this article, I notice these things constantly. In fact, when I was outside a little while ago, I noticed the cloud formations shown in the image presented below.
As I’ve indicated in the caption, I see, in the fainter or lighter region of the left half of the photo, a “Chinese Landscape,” complete with valley and mist-enshrouded peaks. And to the right, beneath the bright, curling, or silk-reeling, or “Chan Si Jin(1)” -shaped dragon-like figure, there appears to descend patterns which resemble, albeit abstractly, Chinese calligraphy.
In the image below, enhanced a bit with graphical wizardry, you can see the Dragon rising up from a high peak and beginning to soar over the cloud-cloaked valley below.
Nature is “our home,” and, in my experience, nature relies upon human beings to “get their act together” and maintain their spiritual connection (as the Native Americans constantly remind us) so that balance is kept on the earth. And to that end, it seems she is relentlessly, and frequently with astounding grace and beauty (as in the image above), attempting to communicate our highest and best to us. This would be the best use of our written languages, obviously, that is, to articulate, explore and perpetuate our “best and highest” abilities. And Nature has many ways to remind us of our stewardship role and our ultimate goal of enlightenment either gracefully and gently (as with the imagery discussed in this and other articles in this journal), or firmly and sometimes very aggressively, as with earthquakes, storms, floods, illness, hunger, etc. All is purposeful. There is nothing random in life. This is at the core of this discussion of the “mystic script” of Nature.
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Chan si jin (Ch`an ssu chin, Chanse Chin) – Energía de enrollar seda. Principio fundamental del Taijiquan. Chan if jin (Ch `an ssu chin, Chans Chin) – Energy from wind silk. Fundamental principle of Taijiquan. Consiste en la movilización de todo el cuerpo utilizando un movimiento espiral que conecte todas sus partes. This consists in mobilizing the whole body using a spiral motion that connects all its parts.
also:
- Chan sz jin (chan si jin)
- The silk-coiling technique of chen style tai chi chuan, wherein the soft tissues of the body twist and turn dramatically.


















This is a fabulous and inspiring blog post. Gorgeous photography! I always carry with me a small magnifier for looking closely. We are habituated! We think we know what “leaf” looks like – until we look closely, without preconceptions.
Thank you!
Katharine at sanctuarywithoutwalls.com
Katharine, thank you for your kind and enjoyable comments! I enjoyed the post on your site with the poem of Hafiz, and the photo of the wood-pile is very familiar to me as I have to gather 7-8 cords of wood every summer to get through the Sierra Foothills winter, which, though not as cold as a New York winter, is very damp and cool enough to make it penetrating and to make a nice robust wood fire very pleasant and necessary! Thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts. -Kevin
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