Messages From The Land is a series of letters from our team with stories and reflections about their time with the forest and its multi-species kin.
Donating monthly will make you an automatic recipient of these letters, offered to bring you into closer relationship with the land you help us steward.
read a sample letter below from José Becerra, our Retreat Center Lead and Forest Technician.
“you are not like the loggers. this is a different kind of relationship—not one of extraction, but one of care.”
Dear kin,
My name is José Becerra, and I am a full-time Shelterwood resident managing our forest restoration and retreat activities. I am grateful for your support and honored to share some reflections with you about my recent time with the land.
There is an old growth redwood area on the outskirts of Shelterwood’s boundary line. It is an area that was hit hardest by years of logging, and when we first became stewards here, that part of the forest was difficult to visit. Energetically, it felt sad and dark and protective of itself. During storms, roads to get there were washed out or blocked by fallen trees. It was as if the area needed time before it was ready for people again.
One of my responsibilities has been to create a plan to restore this part of the forest. I took many trips there to walk the land and listen for what it needed, sometimes alone, sometimes with other Shelterwood stewards and our Kashia neighbors. I knew we needed to cut and thin more trees from the space—overgrown douglas fir and pine were preventing the redwoods from thriving and posed risk in the case of a wildfire. I grappled with the pain of knowing that we would need to take away life in an area already suffering in order to make room for new life.
This spring, we finally began our restoration work there. Before starting, a Kashia Tribal Member offered ceremonial words and song in the space. After only a few days of thinning, burning, planting, and aftercare, the change was immense. There was so much space, so much light. After the crews left, I returned to sit with the land, and I heard:
“When you first came, I was scared. But now, I am grateful. I know you are trying to help me heal. You are not like the loggers. This is a different kind of relationship—Not one of extraction, but one of care.”
Being a land steward at Shelterwood teaches me so much about healing. Healing is not always gentle. It can be messy and emotional. It is slow and long-term work. We do not always get to see the full benefits of our labor. I had to come to terms with the idea that even if I do not see the 50-year-old redwood trees that I plant today, someone will, and the ecosystem will be better for it.
Below are the questions the land leaves me with, that I offer for you to sit with too. We would love to hear your thoughts or any reflections if you wish to share them with us.
Thank you for reading and for being a part of our mycelial network of support. Your presence is deeply felt at Shelterwood.
With gratitude,
José
reflection questions
How can we feel at peace about starting something new when we don’t know how it will turn out?
How can we trust the process of healing as experimental—something we won’t see the benefits of unless we just begin and try?
before
after
