WAITING AT THE GATE . . . SURROUNDED BY A FOREST

JANUARY 5, 2022 – I stand at the gate, boarding pass in hand, waiting for my journey to begin—to “Lab,” “Bone Marrow Biopsy,” “Doctor,” and “City of Drugs.” It’s no vacation trip.

My well-wishers are as numerous as they are supportive of my objective: survival. They’re angels, all. But I also see them as . . . trees.

All of us are familiar with the appearance of trees, however ignorant we are of their inner workings. But look a little more closely, as Peter Wohlleben does in his fascinating book, The Hidden Life of Trees, and you acquire a fresh new understanding of “support networks.”

Typically, when we see a tree, a grove, or a forest, we perceive each trunk and crown the same as we look upon humans—an individual, a small group, a whole society. Each tree, each human, it seems, ultimately stands alone; each survives and thrives according to its own, independent circumstances—location, competition, genetics, and random fortune or misfortune. In reality, however, that’s not how it works—for trees or humans.

Trees operate as a community, a network connected by intertwined roots, fungal filaments—a wood wide web—and numerous other communication and nutritional devices. The interaction among trees to propagate successfully and resist drought, disease, and infestations is among nature’s grand—but largely unobserved—miracles. We’ve been taught “survival of the fittest,” but what occurs behind appearances is “One for all, and all for one.”

As I study Wohlleben’s mind-bending but accessible account of arboreal interdependency, I think of the myriad symbioses among humans and between humans and all other life forms on earth—connections to which we are mostly oblivious, just as we are to the communal society of trees.

The “support network” I’ve experienced over the past few days is grandly special to me, and I now understand how essential it is to survival of our species. Without frequent, generous injections of hope, thoughts, prayers, and encouragement from others, each of us would be like the lone tree in the middle of an over-farmed, over-sprayed cornfield—completely isolated from the collective strength and support of other trees; roots searching in vain for long-term sustenance. Just as all trees of the forest do better when all trees of the forest do better—so does all of humanity do better when all of humanity does better.

This perspective is largely “counter-culture,” when our nation’s origins, history, and development are assessed objectively. Rugged individualism, which defines us and perpetuates our divisions to this day, serves “rugged individuals” no better than standing alone in the sterile cornfield serves the “free-standing” tree. In each case, eventually the loner is alone and vulnerable in a season of need.

While I stand—ostensibly alone—at the gate, waiting for the boarding call, a whole crew works to make the trip safe and sound despite anticipated turbulence. Most important, my “forest” of family and friends prepare their flight-tracking apps. I trust plane and crew, but I’m most dependent on my fellow trees.

(Remember to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.)

© 2021 by Eric Nilsson