Decluttering a clootie tree
This post is not a gold star/pat on the back type post. It is one that I hope inspires others to be mindful of the offerings they make when out in the natural world and to take action in their local area when needed.
There is a natural spring in an area that I regularly walk which has a tree standing over it. Every time I come to this sacred space, I was utterly baffled and even upset by the amount of items tied and left in the tree.
Clootie trees are a fairly well-established practice in many parts of the UK whereby, usually around a festival such as Beltane or May Day, someone will dip a piece of fabric in a sacred well before tying it to a nearby tree in the hope that someone dear to them will be healed from a particular ailment.
This practice has become problematic in recent years as many items left in these special places are not biodegradable as they might once have been and they are also often not just simple strips of cloth. We hear a lot about how microplastics and other pollutants enter our ecosystem via predictable routes such as poorly managed rubbish dumps, but they can also come from seemingly harmless acts such as those described above.
So after much grumbling about “someone should do something”, I decided to be that someone. Much of the objects tied to the tree in question are not rags but beads, pieces of flint found nearby bound in a plastic-based thread, and sometimes random things like a train ticket to the area.
I thanked the tree and thanked to intentions of those who had left objects which almost certainly had meaning for them in most cases. I then set out my intention, expressing my repeated thanks and desires for the intentions to remain even if the items themselves did not. Where I could leave items but remove the plastic threads that tied them to the tree, I did.
Biodegradable objects such as shells are fine in and of themselves but as soon as you tie them to a tree with a plastic-based shoelace, it becomes a harmful object.
Leaving half finished candles or the metal containers that come with tealight is incredibly dangerous. Someone might relight a candle and start a fire, or a small animal may injure itself on the sharp edge of a tealight holder.
I carefully untied, replaced, and repositioned what I could, and removed what I could not. I also removed other dangerous objects such as a glass vessel which was already focusing the sunlight in a way that could start a forest fire in just a few months, a common issue for our part of the world.
I removed these objects to give the tree space to breathe and not be cut into by tough cords that wouldn’t break down over time.
I removed these objects so birds wouldn’t get caught in them or use them to build their nests, therefore introducing microplastics into their developing chicks.
I removed these objects so to prevent damage to people and creatures who inhabit and/or visit the space.
The Forestry Commission, who manage the land that this well and tree resides upon, have signs about the place asking for people to take rubbish with them and leave no trace. They also ask for people to be aware of fire risks and to not do anything that could cause a wild fire.
Why should leaving an offering at a sacred well be exempt from these very sensible and practical requests?
My advice would be this: if you are desperate to leave some sort of offering, make it something that is natural and biodegradable. Make a libation with water or a small shot of mead that soaks into the ground.
Perhaps leave an offering of bird seed that can be a representation of your intention but also feed the local wildlife that call the sacred tree part of their home.
If you wish to make something, carve a small object in untreated wood and then leave it to rot away at the base of the tree.
Or don’t leave anything at all and simply spend time at a site with your thoughts, take some water from the well or spring home with you, and leave the space as you found it.
While we are a part of nature, nature is not obligated to be the receptacle of our desires, wishes, or wants. For us to presume that it is ok to harm our natural spaces because our magical intentions are more important is missing the point and, quite frankly, unethical magic.
So next time you’re out in nature, consider the objects around you as potential candidates for an offering. A fallen leaf, a found pebble, a bird feather.
Or just leave your own gift of your mind and tell a story to the tree. It will listen.