Where Trees Remember and Shells Whisper Stories
A soulful reflection on sacred ground, sunlight through trees, and the stories the sea still tells.
By Cece/Cecelia 12 April 2025
A Walk Through Time on Dauphin Island
Where Trees Remember and Shells Whisper Stories
After days wrestling with book formatting, website tweaks, and getting every detail just right, I felt like my body needed to exhale. The Island was calling me — not just for sunshine, but for stillness. And when I stepped onto that beach, I felt something shift. It was exactly what I needed — and more than I expected.
Yesterday, I followed the sunshine to Dauphin Island with a dear friend and let my soul breathe deep by the sea. We didn’t just visit the beach — we walked through a living memory. Indian Shell Mound Park sits quietly near the edge of the island, but it hums with ancient energy. These mounds, made of oyster and clam shells, were created by Indigenous peoples thousands of years ago — not as trash heaps, but as gathering sites, homes, and ceremonial places.“This site is very important to numerous Southeastern indigenous tribes who assert an ancestral connection with those who built and occupied Alabama’s ancient mounds.”Along the trail, we paused by a small spring-fed stream — the same one used long ago as an essential drinking source. Two boat-tailed grackles splashed and bathed in the crystal-clear water, their wings catching the sun like oil on glass. In that moment, I said a quiet prayer for the many lives who had passed through that sacred place over eons. The water still remembers.
Not far from the stream, we came upon a massive, long-dead oak — its fallen trunk arched like an ancient gateway. Life still clung to its weathered limbs. Moss, vines, and young shoots emerged from the old bark, as if the tree had chosen to remain a guardian of the path. We paused beneath it, awed by the way it seemed to remember us, even as we tried to remember it. That moment felt sacred.
Then there was the Hercules tree. Not just any tree — a spiny, otherworldly sentinel. Its trunk was covered in strange knobs and thorns, almost like it had grown its own armor. Karen laughed nervously and swore it looked like it was about to reach out and grab her. I couldn’t help but agree. It was wild. Beautiful. A little eerie. But also… alive with history.
We wandered, we listened. Not just to the birdsong and breeze, but to the whispers in the trees, the hush of ancient feet that once walked this path. And I couldn’t help but think of Hope Tree Island — a story whispered in dreams, and remembered in places just like this.
The book follows Kya, a curious girl who chases a fish beyond the shoreline and discovers a magical island where trees carry hope, and nature reveals its wisdom in unexpected ways. It’s for children, yes — but also for those of us who still hear the sea in our hearts.
📚 Hope Tree Island is available now in hardcover on Amazon.
🌿 For the grands and great-grands. For wanderers and wonderers. For anyone who’s ever stood beneath a tree and felt remembered.