Day 235 of 365 - Tree Communication
Have you ever noticed the difference in energy when you are in the midst of a dense forest? It can feel quite magical. I've had the opportunity to hike in an ancient rain forest on Vancouver Island several years ago, and experienced this.
People who devote their time and energy to studying and caring for trees, like Peter Wohlleben, the German forester who wrote The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate, can tell us more about that feeling. He used personal language in his book to appeal to readers and to foster interest in what might seem a dry scientific topic. It seems to have worked, given the popularity of the book.
Scientific studies confirm that trees are not competitive loners but, are cooperative and interdependent. The action takes place below ground, where root tips of trees join with fungal filaments to create a communication network. Through it, they share water and nutrients, but also send distress signals to each other. Mature trees share their sap with young ones, helping them survive in dense canopies where sunlight barely penetrates. Trees send chemical and electrical signals to each other as well. They also signal via scent, such as releasing a noxious gas when a predator is eating their leaves, making the taste inhospitable.
What Wohlleben calls mother trees, are the biggest, oldest trees, which also have the most connections. Their deep roots can draw more water. They help neighboring trees receive water and nutrients when there is distress, such as during a heat wave. Mother trees create resilient forests and serve a vital purpose.
As I've mentioned in a previous post, I'm fortunate to have a lovely green space, with many mature trees on two sides of my apartment building. There are two trees which I've become fond of gazing upon each day. One is seen through an east facing window. I would call it a middle-aged tree. It's mature, with a lovely full canopy, through which I can see the sunrise each day. It's branches and foliage offer a dark but semi-sheer curtain for the nuances of color afforded by the dawn sky. It has become a magical and reassuring presence when I first open my blinds to greet the day.
The other tree I look at daily is seen from a north facing window. It is very mature, one of the tallest on the property. The texture of its bark and the elegant reach of its branches make it look like a majestic matriarch. I've been worried what will become of this one though. It has been much slower than its neighbors of the same species to come into leaf this year, finally just developing a rather sparse canopy in the past week or so. Because of this, I've noticed some broken branches, victims of windstorms, and one particularly large branch which hardly has any leaves at all.
I wonder if that matriarch is dying and, how long it will be before the property owners decide to cut it down. That's a pretty common occurrence in this neighborhood. There are so many very mature trees which 'threaten' nearby power lines and homes with their potential to crack and fall. In fact, in the past month I've been hearing the steady whine of saws and drone of wood chippers as many trees on nearby streets are being significantly pruned.
Reading again about how trees communicate and share nutrients and chemical signals, makes me feel better about that old tree on this property. It is reassuring to know that it is sharing nutrients with nearby trees, serving a worthy purpose, despite its failing appearance. I suppose I think of that tree as sort of a metaphor for aging in myself. I still want to feel that I serve a purpose as I get older and, I hope I will not be cut down or removed in some way before my life mission is accomplished.
The trees outside my window communicate to me about life. It does not matter that my metaphor may only exist in my imagination. We are all a part of the network of life.
People who devote their time and energy to studying and caring for trees, like Peter Wohlleben, the German forester who wrote The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate, can tell us more about that feeling. He used personal language in his book to appeal to readers and to foster interest in what might seem a dry scientific topic. It seems to have worked, given the popularity of the book.
Scientific studies confirm that trees are not competitive loners but, are cooperative and interdependent. The action takes place below ground, where root tips of trees join with fungal filaments to create a communication network. Through it, they share water and nutrients, but also send distress signals to each other. Mature trees share their sap with young ones, helping them survive in dense canopies where sunlight barely penetrates. Trees send chemical and electrical signals to each other as well. They also signal via scent, such as releasing a noxious gas when a predator is eating their leaves, making the taste inhospitable.
What Wohlleben calls mother trees, are the biggest, oldest trees, which also have the most connections. Their deep roots can draw more water. They help neighboring trees receive water and nutrients when there is distress, such as during a heat wave. Mother trees create resilient forests and serve a vital purpose.
As I've mentioned in a previous post, I'm fortunate to have a lovely green space, with many mature trees on two sides of my apartment building. There are two trees which I've become fond of gazing upon each day. One is seen through an east facing window. I would call it a middle-aged tree. It's mature, with a lovely full canopy, through which I can see the sunrise each day. It's branches and foliage offer a dark but semi-sheer curtain for the nuances of color afforded by the dawn sky. It has become a magical and reassuring presence when I first open my blinds to greet the day.
The other tree I look at daily is seen from a north facing window. It is very mature, one of the tallest on the property. The texture of its bark and the elegant reach of its branches make it look like a majestic matriarch. I've been worried what will become of this one though. It has been much slower than its neighbors of the same species to come into leaf this year, finally just developing a rather sparse canopy in the past week or so. Because of this, I've noticed some broken branches, victims of windstorms, and one particularly large branch which hardly has any leaves at all.
I wonder if that matriarch is dying and, how long it will be before the property owners decide to cut it down. That's a pretty common occurrence in this neighborhood. There are so many very mature trees which 'threaten' nearby power lines and homes with their potential to crack and fall. In fact, in the past month I've been hearing the steady whine of saws and drone of wood chippers as many trees on nearby streets are being significantly pruned.
Reading again about how trees communicate and share nutrients and chemical signals, makes me feel better about that old tree on this property. It is reassuring to know that it is sharing nutrients with nearby trees, serving a worthy purpose, despite its failing appearance. I suppose I think of that tree as sort of a metaphor for aging in myself. I still want to feel that I serve a purpose as I get older and, I hope I will not be cut down or removed in some way before my life mission is accomplished.
The trees outside my window communicate to me about life. It does not matter that my metaphor may only exist in my imagination. We are all a part of the network of life.
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