Finding the Mother Tree
Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest
Ratings15
Average rating4.3
15
Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest
Ratings15
Average rating4.3
NEW YORK TIMES BEST SELLER • From the world's leading forest ecologist who forever changed how people view trees and their connections to one another and to other living things in the forest—a moving, deeply personal journey of discovery “Finding the Mother Tree reminds us that the world is a web of stories, connecting us to one another. [The book] carries the stories of trees, fungi, soil and bears--and of a human being listening in on the conversation. The interplay of personal narrative, scientific insights and the amazing revelations about the life of the forest make a compelling story.”—Robin Wall Kimmerer, author of Braiding Sweetgrass Suzanne Simard is a pioneer on the frontier of plant communication and intelligence; her TED talks have been viewed by more than 10 million people worldwide. In this, her first book, now available in paperback, Simard brings us into her world, the intimate world of the trees, in which she brilliantly illuminates the fascinating and vital truths--that trees are not simply the source of timber or pulp, but are a complicated, interdependent circle of life; that forests are social, cooperative creatures connected through underground networks by which trees communicate their vitality and vulnerabilities with communal lives not that different from our own. Simard writes--in inspiring, illuminating, and accessible ways—how trees, living side by side for hundreds of years, have evolved, how they learn and adapt their behaviors, recognize neighbors, compete and cooperate with one another with sophistication, characteristics ascribed to human intelligence, traits that are the essence of civil societies--and at the center of it all, the Mother Trees: the mysterious, powerful forces that connect and sustain the others that surround them. And Simard writes of her own life, born and raised into a logging world in the rainforests of British Columbia, of her days as a child spent cataloging the trees from the forest and how she came to love and respect them. And as she writes of her scientific quest, she writes of her own journey, making us understand how deeply human scientific inquiry exists beyond data and technology, that it is about understanding who we are and our place in the world.
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Much more difficult reading than I had expected. This book demands a lot from the reader, and rewards well.
Difficulties... Technically: there's a lot of science, often tightly condensed. Stylistically: the book is a tapestry—okay, okay, I'll say it: a mycorrhizal network—of memoir, ecology, research, policy, education, inspiration, frustration, hope, and more; context-switching was often jarring, as was remembering all the personae and arborae. Emotionally: ugh; so much bullying from whitemale knowbetter pieceoshits, plus the other difficulties in her life, plus all the omnipresent destruction of trees and forests and ecosystems.
Difficult, finally, on a personal level: I'm deeply hardwired as both a cooperator and a skeptic. Even though I know how her research ends, it's different when reading about the experiments themselves: I found myself painfully conflicted between rooting for her and finding nits to pick in her experimental design, because intellectual honesty demands stricter rigor when I want something to be true. (See Feynman's First Principle.) Satisfyingly, most of the times I had a question, she addressed it within a few pages. Other questions, time and research will tell. Also satisfyingly, and this is not much of a spoiler, cooperation wins out at the end. Fuck yeah.
Scientist Suzanne Simard tells the story of her life, focusing on the development of her love for trees and her studies about the ways trees communicate and thrive. Simard is an early voice against clear cutting and she dares to challenge the scientific giants in her field, sparking resistance initially but eventually gaining followers.
One of the first clues came while I was tapping into the messages that the trees were relaying back and forth through a cryptic underground fungal network. When I followed the clandestine path of the conversations, I learned that this network is pervasive through the entire forest floor, connecting all the trees in a constellation of tree hubs and fungal links. A crude map revealed, stunningly, that the biggest, oldest timbers are the sources of fungal connections to regenerating seedlings.
Simard, Suzanne. Finding the Mother Tree (p. 5). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
The old trees nurture the young ones and provide them food and water just as we do with our own children. It is enough to make one pause, take a deep breath, and contemplate the social nature of the forest and how this is critical for evolution. The fungal network appears to wire the trees for fitness. And more. These old trees are mothering their children.
Simard, Suzanne. Finding the Mother Tree (p. 5). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
The scientific evidence is impossible to ignore: the forest is wired for wisdom, sentience, and healing. This is not a book about how we can save the trees. This is a book about how the trees might save us.
Simard, Suzanne. Finding the Mother Tree (pp. 5-6). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
I have come full circle to stumble onto some of the indigenous ideals: Diversity matters. And everything in the universe is connected—between the forests and prairies, the land and the water, the sky and the soil, the spirits and the living, the people and all other creatures.
Simard, Suzanne. Finding the Mother Tree (p. 283). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
We have the power to shift course. It's our disconnectedness—and lost understanding about the amazing capacities of nature—that's driving a lot of our despair, and plants in particular are objects of our abuse. By understanding their sentient qualities, our empathy and love for trees, plants, and forests will naturally deepen and find innovative solutions. Turning to the intelligence of nature itself is the key. It's up to each and every one of us. Connect with plants you can call your own. If you're in a city, set a pot on your balcony. If you have a yard, start a garden or join a community plot. Here's a simple and profound action you can take right now: Go find a tree—your tree. Imagine linking into her network, connecting to other trees nearby. Open your senses. If you want to do more, I invite you into the heart of the Mother Tree Project to learn techniques and solutions that will protect and enhance biodiversity, carbon storage, and myriad ecological goods and services that underpin our life-support systems. Opportunities are as endless as our imagination. Scientists, students, and the general public who want to take part in this interdisciplinary research deep in the forest and be part of a citizen-science initiative, a movement to save the forests of the world, can find out more at http://mothertreeproject.org. Vive la forêt!
Simard, Suzanne. Finding the Mother Tree (p. 305). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
A great read for anyone remotely interested in forestry or ecology! It's part autobiography, part scientific narrative, and accessible enough for anyone to follow. It really shows the complexities of forest management and the forest itself.
I am proud to read of a fellow British Columbia Canadian surviving sexism and narrow-minded profit-based scepticism in the forestry service (aka lumber industry 😑), divorce, cancer and multiple encounters with bears, but most importantly never waning in providing evidence for a new connected way of looking at forests. For demonstrating the value in ecological diversity, and never underestimating the possible shared contributions and actions of not just the fungal network that provides connections, but the trees who also share and communicate via such a system. And finding new, queer love along the way! I don't suppose publishers would use ‘feel good' as the first descriptor, but that's what it did for me.
