The Lord replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” Exodus 33:14

The world is in such a state of flux that even the advice of parents or grandparents in their eighties doesn’t quite hold the knowledge for what might prepare us best for the future. There are headlines that decree that AI is changing our lives and will be the source of creating further divisions in a world already so divided. It is enough to make us all want to take that one time heavily marketed ‘duvet day’. But somehow even the warmest duvet doesn’t give us the restful respite and genuine nurture of nature or the tranquility of trees. May brings us the blossom of Spring and notable shoots forming on trees. Burgeoning boughs give us the signs of longer, lighter days ahead and basking in a new outdoor room of many colours.

The tree, it seems, is literally the gift that keeps giving, through the way it absorbs carbon dioxide. Like us trees breathe — they absorb carbon dioxide and exhale oxygen. Forests in the US have been credited with removing three decades worth of greenhouse emissions from trucks, power plants and cars from the atmosphere. Walking in trees also helps our mental health, and releases phytoncides that provide a benefit to our gut microbiome. Our tree friends may stand still but there is always one close by. As we further our understanding of trees and how they communicate we are drawn into recognising that perhaps we too share in their sentient nature. In a recent project run by Trinity College Dublin, passers-by were given the opportunity to have a conversation with trees, through an AI language tool powered by the use of a localised battery. The tree’s feelings were analysed by sensors connecting to the tree’s bio electrical signals, which consider factors such as the atmosphere it exists within, including soil, wind and light. The answers were interesting. Translating these signals gives us a sense of their experience over the lifespan of a two hundred year old plane tree. This project gives us the ability to connect with nature’s network, to gain an understanding of our partnership with the tree, and a wisdom that is almost incomprehensible in our short span on this earth.

This recognition is not something new to indigenous cultures. Trees are seen as an integral part of their culture, rather than something to be managed. They view trees and their supporting network of fungi, birds and animals, as an instruction on how to live, and a demonstration that building community requires the inclusion of everyone and working together in an interconnected way. Indigenous populations, which make up 5% of the world’s global population, safeguard 50% of the world’s biodiversity. Their long traditions of spoken stories mean that this safeguarding and intrinsic connection to nature is as natural for them as it is for us to awaken and brush our teeth. We now understand more that the pressing issue of climate change is something we as individuals need to act upon, rather than delegate in our minds to activists and government. The issue of climate is affecting even our most basic considerations such as heating our own homes. The desire for warmth is not just a practical requirement but one that sets the scene of invitation and warmth and ensures that home is a place of rest. The wood burning stove addresses both the issue of climate and creates restfulness, fulfilling both these needs.

There has been some misunderstanding around woodland management and the use of timber for woodburning. Understanding this type of management is not something we are necessarily drawn to think of day to day. Those among us who are gardeners or even curious novices, understand the benefit of pruning for growth, which could perhaps be a good analogy for how we might understand sustainable woodland management. Ancient practices of coppicing woodland encourages biodiversity, while also providing a sustainable heat source for its local population. Indigenous people across the world have always managed forests in this way. Over centuries, they have found this an effective way of also preventing the wild fires that cause untold damage. It has been proven to work more effectively than the more contemporary methods of fire suppression.

This unity of thinking found within the tree network and Indigenous guardianship shows us the benefits of communing with the ancient wisdom and mortality of the tree. During a morning walk through a quiet park the other day, I was moved from the chatter of birds to a lone saxophonist playing face to face with a tree. At first, it seemed like they were in conversation. However, on further inspection, the musician was using the tree’s shade so he could see his music. I left feeling a little disappointed by my romantic vision of this commune with the tree. But maybe in fact, the tree was working its restful silence, watching, being and waiting for us to connect. Nature has long been patient with us, maybe it’s time for us to work with the trees, so we can all be more restful.