We know that light is life. None of us would choose to live in total darkness except perhaps those rare varieties of creatures that dwell deep in the ocean, so deep we know little about them. The trees know better than anyone the life-giving force of sunlight. They, whoever “they” are, tell us we have fifteen minutes of fame and, though I’m not sure any of us “need” fame, the trees are also aware of truth in said statement, knowing what it means to be patient. As spring starts to wiggle here and the trees are waking from their slumber, I can’t help but be in awe of them and … it got me thinking.
All summer the trees stand with their comrades, with arms linked, blending in together in a cape of green. They collectively shade the forest floor and those who dwell beneath them. The trees know their own singular beauty – their unique charm waiting off to the side of centre stage, allowing chlorophyll to take charge so that each tree may extract energy from the sunshine using photosynthesis. When the sun’s power has lost its might, the chlorophyll bows out, allowing the tree to wave its true colours, to entertain its admirers as we ready for the tree’s loss, the falling of her brilliant-coloured leaves and needles to enrich the soil of the forest floor. And then she waits, waits patiently for the longer days to return, waits for the power of the sunshine to grow and then she slowly reminds us she was here the whole time, waiting, resting. Spring is upon us.
Many books have been written about the extraordinary qualities of trees. I’ve read some of them but have many yet to read. One book that stays in my mind is The Hidden Life of Trees, written by Peter Wohlleben, translated from German to English by Jane Billinghurst and published in 2016. Wohlleben is a German forester, starting his career as a wood ranger for the German government, a job that awakened his passion for the welfare of animals and trees. His writing has been challenged by some biologists, claiming it to be too anthropomorphic and more wishful thinking than science. As I read the book, I found myself nodding with the sense of a better understanding of trees. We could learn a lot about trees and how a forest sustains itself and those lessons could be applied to our human existence.
Most of us know that trees are essential for life; they clean the air, ensure that water is available for us. Without forests, rain would only fall on a swath of land along the coast, but forests allow that moisture to move inland, acting like stepping stones. Forests absorb carbon dioxide from the air and store it in their wood. A forest is an ecosystem that can moderate climate extremes wherein individual trees can then live to a ripe old age. A forest that evolves at its own pace will always be stronger than a forest that has been planted, Wohlleben writes, and likewise isolated trees have far shorter lives than those trees connected to other trees in a forest. Trees are like “human families”, the parent trees caring for their youngsters, sharing nutrients, communicating with them, and even warning of potential dangers. Wohlleben tells of coming upon a stump of a tree that had been felled centuries earlier, yet surrounding trees kept the stump alive, providing it with moisture and nutrients, which sounds like magic to me. It takes a forest to create a microclimate that helps a forest flourish, where the “whole is greater than its parts”. Plants can distinguish their own roots from the roots of other plants and other species. If they work together, they all benefit. Domesticated trees have lost their ability to communicate, and Wohlleben suggests farmers should “breed a little wildness” into their crops so they can help one another flourish, which makes me ponder our humanity, at peril because we no longer listen.
If trees did not work together, individual trees would die, creating gaps that would allow the storms to get in and the heat to steal the moisture from the forest floor. Even sick or weak individual trees are supported by the others and nourished until they recover. Like elephants who let the weakest in the herd set the pace, trees exist in cooperation, in community, for the betterment of all.
wendistewart@live.ca
