‘You discover things on the road to nowhere in particular.’

D I V E   I N

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Trees

 

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1.

 

Trees are historians, geographers, travellers, and observers. And just like us, they all have roots in different places — literally and figuratively. Every species has a home, sometimes more than one if they live outside of their ancestral ground. Olive trees are found most abundantly in Spain and Italy, but they originated in Israel. Banyans, popular in China and North America, come from India, while horse chestnut trees, born on the Balkan Peninsula (e.g., Greece and Serbia) are now common worldwide (much to the delight of conker-wielding children across the U.K.). 

 

2.

 

It’s hard to remember that so many of the items in our homes came from trees. The smooth desk I’m currently writing on, the rosewood guitar in the living room, the chopping board propped up on the kitchen counter. You can’t feel trees in these items. Their energy has been sanded down and wiped away, and what remains, a glossy veneer, says nothing of where they have come from. If they retained their natural texture, bark and all, would we still want them? And if we didn’t, would that be a good thing?

3.

 

I read about a woman who ‘communed’ with a tree near her home and decided I wanted to do the same. To be able to lean against the same tree, watch the same tree change, and even talk to the same tree, sounded fulfilling.

 

After a few months of walking around the island I call home, pretending to casually admire the foliage while really assessing each tree, I found it. I was visiting one of my favourite spots — a clifftop accessed only by crossing a beach, clambering over giant rocks, and doing something of a dicey dance across slippery clay crags. It was a moody day, and the wind was ferocious. The exposed cliff and raging waters below felt unsafe, so I backed up and sought shelter under a tall tree with an over-arching canopy of needle-laden branches and long, thick roots, snaking all the way to the cliff’s edge. Looking up at the tree I was clinging to, I knew. This tree I’d seen tons of times but never considered, the one now protecting me from the gale force, was the one. After that, I went to the cliff regularly for the sole purpose of visiting the tree. I watched it, sat with it, talked to it, and yes, even gave it a squeeze.

 

4.

 

In Japanese, there’s a word to describe the way the light filters through the leaves of trees: komorebi. Its three characters are made up of the words for tree, come through or escape, and sunlight. It’s not only the phenomenon itself that’s deemed to be beautiful but also the way it causes movement and shadow. There’s no direct translation in English; perhaps the closest is ‘dappled sunlight’.

 

5.

 

My friend in America told me about a physics-defying tree he saw in the Blue Ridge Mountains. He included a photograph of it in his letter, and it was clear what he meant: the tree was sat on the very edge of a cliff, leaning over.

 

This isn’t the only tree that I’ve heard resists gravity. Árboles bandera (‘flag trees’ in Spanish) grow horizontally. Found in South America, the beech trees are shaped by the west winds (which can exceed 60 mph), meaning they look like the wind has blown them sideways and, much like the adage our grandparents scared us with, they stay that way. The trees survive because they’re logical and flexible, digging deep into the soil to establish a strong base and willingly bending in the wind, accommodating the conditions they cannot control. Perhaps this is a lesson for humans. Instead of fighting what we can’t change, accept and adapt.

 

6.

 

The Overstory by Richard Power is an epic work of fiction that tells the stories of different characters whose lives are shaped and changed by trees. The individual narratives are cleverly woven together through their shared investment in the world of trees. The book, full of humanity and variety, is a fantastic read, but its real purpose seems to be showing, in no uncertain terms, how important and woefully under-appreciated trees are.

 

7.

 

Redwood trees are special. For starters, they’re the oldest trees in the world — they’ve been around for 240 million years. The oldest on record still with us is believed to be 2,200 years old. They’re also the largest trees in the world. They can grow up to 300 feet tall and have a pretty girthy trunk (making hugging rather tricky). Plus, they’re the only tree native to the Californian coast. The other trees along the Pacific Coast were chosen and planted there, but redwoods originated in California and continue to outlive other trees, wildlife, and, of course, people.

 

8.
 

How many of our childhood memories include trees? I can recall at least three (picking apples from the tree in the garden; a friend falling out of a tree and breaking his arm; building forts at tree bases in the undergrowth near my home). Perhaps for you it was playing on a swing attached to a thick branch or watching from an apartment window as the same tree grew and shed its leaves each year. Maybe it was sitting on an old stump in a park or listening rapt as your parents talked about Buddha and the Bodhi tree. Trees seem to mean more to us emotionally than other foliage. Perhaps it’s knowing that they communicate with each other and are ‘close’ to humans in this way. Or maybe it’s simply that they watch us grow up, provide a sense of stability, and of course, give us life.

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9.
 

Books about trees for your perusal:

 

The Hidden Life of Trees — Peter Wohlleben

Around the World in 80 Trees — Jonathan Drori
The Overstory — Richard Power
The Song of Trees — David George Haskell