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Episode Description
This episode was created and recorded by Gabriel Richardson in ᐊᒥᐢᑲᐧᒋᐋᐧᐢᑲᐦᐃᑲᐣ amiskwaciwâskahikan (Edmonton) on Treaty 6 territory.
On Trees and Not Being Alone is a languid river wander that muses on trees, spit, poetry, and (not) being alone. If you’re looking to regenerate and slow down, perhaps with a drink in hand, maybe sit for a bit... this is the wander for you.
00:25 Welcome to the woods
03:27 A poem on eating and drinking
05:51 The trees are aware
07:03 A poem on sleeping in the forest
08:28 The trees understand time
12:16 A poem on beauty
15:35 The trees look after their young
17:46 A poem on morning
19:15 Get a little weird
Want the transcript, more info about what you heard, or a way to connect with other wanderers? Check out our website or connect with us on Instagram. If you have an idea, feedback, or story you’d like to share, give us a shout at wouldyouwander@gmail.com.
Edited by Sam Jeffery in amiskwaciwâskahikan (Edmonton) on Treaty 6 territory.
Meet the Storyteller: Gabriel Richardson (he/him)
ᐊᒥᐢᑲᐧᒋᐋᐧᐢᑲᐦᐃᑲᐣ amiskwaciwâskahikan (Edmonton), Treaty 6 territory
I love the Great Basin Bristlecone Pine! It's deemed the oldest tree species in the world, and the oldest one is over 5,000 years old! To me it looks like exactly what I imagine Yggdrasil (the mythological Norse World Tree)
Great white sharks terrify me for a number of reasons. The number one scary fact is that they can feel your heart beating through electromagnetic sense receptors in their skin. When they swim near you they can literally feel your heart beating!
Nature is giving us every sign that humans are accelerating climate change. I will never forget living in Edmonton and the ash from the BC forest fires turning the whole city sepia toned. It was apocalyptic, and it reminds me every day that our time on this planet is precious and we must leave it better than we found it.
Further Readings
Growing evidence suggests that certain plants like maple trees, when under attack, send airborne signals warning their neighbours of impending danger.
Trees are far more alert, social, sophisticated—and even intelligent—than we thought.
The nervous system of the forest.
Hidden under your feet is an information superhighway that allows plants to communicate and help each other out. It’s made of fungi.
Trees are "social creatures" that communicate with each other in cooperative ways that hold lessons for humans, too, ecologist Suzanne Simard says.
TRANSCRIPT - Wander 2: On Trees and Not Being Alone
Note: Transcripts may contain errors. If you wish to re-use all, or part of, a transcript, please contact Would You Wander for permission.
Sam: Welcome to Would You Wander, the storytelling nature podcast. Whether you're in a city, the wilds, or anywhere in between, nature is always beside you. You've come to the right place - exactly where you are. So come on - would you wander with us? This wander is by Gabriel Richardson. It's called "On Trees and Not Being Alone".
[00:00:25] Gabriel: Hello everyone. My name is Gabriel Richardson. This is my episode of Would You Wander. And I wanted to have a sort of aimless walk with you, sort of something I've been doing myself during these times. And something that I find very regenerating. I like to just go into the river valley, uh, usually bring some beer or, you know, something to smoke and walk and read poetry, take a seat whenever I want to and just take it all in.
[00:01:07] So I sort of have a collection of poetry, some little neat facts about, uh, trees, the things you might be walking by and looking at. Um, yeah, that's sort of the, the vibe that I want to go for. Um, it is encouraged that you are drinking, do anything you feel comfortable doing. [can opening] Awesome. So you can start this walk sort of anywhere in the ravine or river valleys, anywhere you feel like you want to explore. I particularly love to walk next to the North Saskatchewan river. I have a few spots that I will sit and just stare at the river or listen to the river if it's particularly dark out.
[00:02:03] Um, and as I'm walking by, you know, the, uh, the poplar trees and the spruce trees and the pine trees, I think quite a bit about the trees themselves, that the trees are aware that I'm there. Trees, especially leafed trees, they, when they have little bugs chewing on their leaves, they can feel that. A lot of them will release pheromones to let other trees know that there are predators nearby.
[00:02:34] And then those other trees will release toxins into their leaves that make their leaves rather bitter so that predators will stop eating their leaves. It's very cool. They have their own little community. In some instances like with elms and pine trees, they know the saliva of the bug that's eating them.
[00:02:59] It's sort of gross, but they can taste the saliva of the bug that's chewing on them. And they can release pheromones into the air to attract predators. Usually it's like wasps or something like that. That'll come and destroy caterpillars that are chewing on them. That there is a sort of beautiful symbiotic relationship between the animals in the ravines and the forests and the trees.
[00:03:26] So feel free to take a little seat somewhere or stand and just listen. Here is a poem by Kahlil Gibran. Uh, it's on one of my favourite topics of all time. It's called On Eating and Drinking.
[00:03:49] Then an old man, a keeper of an inn, said, speak to us of eating and drinking. And he said would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth. And like an air plant be sustained by the light. But since you must kill to eat and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship. And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of the forest and plain are sacrificed for which is purer and still more innocent in man.
[00:04:29] When you kill a beast say to him in your heart, "By the same power that slays you, I too am slain; and I too shall be consumed. For the law that delivered you into my hand shall deliver me into a mightier hand. Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tree of heaven." And when you crush an apple in your teeth, say to it in your heart, "Your seeds shall live in my body, and the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart, and your fragrance shall be my breath, and together we shall rejoice through all the seasons." And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyard for the wine press, say in your heart, "I too am a vineyard and my fruit shall be gathered for the wine press, and like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels." And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup; and let there be a song, a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the wine press.
[00:05:51] Yeah. I know when I first started walking, it was sort of isolating to feel like you're by yourself in a ravine. Upon further research, I realized I wasn't alone, that the trees are very much aware that I am there. As much as I am aware that they are there.
[00:06:20] It's fantastic to know that there is a community, that trees are connected. The roots underneath the trees often extend, you know, twice as large as the crown of the tree, they are interconnected. And if one tree isn't doing so well, if one tree isn't getting enough light, the other trees will actually send nutrients via their roots to those trees. Those trees will soak up that nutrients, but only take as much as they need. There is no such thing as a gluttonous tree. So if you'd like to take a seat next to a tree, I'd like to read you a little poem. Uh, it's a Mary Olivier poem. It's called Sleeping in the Forest. This is sort of one of my favourite things to do, sleeping in the forest.
[00:07:23] I thought the earth remembered me. She took me back. So tenderly arranging her dark skirts or pockets full of lichen and seeds. I slept as never before a stone on the river bed. Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars, but my thoughts and they floated light as moths among the branches on the perfect trees.
[00:07:50] All night. I heard the small kingdoms breathing around me, the insects, the birds who do their work in the darkness all night. I rose and fell as if in water grappling with a luminous doom. My morning, I had vanished at least a dozen times into the better.
[00:08:18] Yeah, that's a beautiful piece by Mary Oliver. I should also mention, you don't have to listen to this concurrently. Now that you've sort of seen the setup of this podcast, feel free to pause it, or find a time code in the description to take you to a specific poem where you can choose when you sit listen to some poetry and just take in your surroundings. Okay.
[00:08:54] Another thing I learned, doing some research and walking in the forest, it always occurred to me that around this time (it's May 16th, it's just starting to get warm) that we get faked out a lot by little bits of warm weather. I, like a lot of people, wore shorts way before I probably should have, sort of tricking my body into thinking it's summer.
[00:09:21] And then you get hit by another week of... sometimes snow, but usually just harsh cold days. Make you forget that it's not actually spring yet. And it occurred to me. Why don't trees do that? You know, it, it appears to me that trees understand when they're trying to be like, when nature is faking them out, they know, otherwise they would leaf right away.
[00:09:51] I was doing some research and I found that beeches, the trees, they wait until there's 13 hours of sunlight before they start to grow their leaves. And that has some really interesting implications. That means that beeches at least understand the concept of time. They understand that there's a certain amount of light that they're supposed to get over a certain amount of time.
[00:10:22] And that is when they start, they have memory. They know when nature is faking them out. There is a sort of, I don't know if it's sentient, it's cognizant. I don't know, but there's an intelligence there that I don't necessarily recognize all the time, but it's older than me and will, you know, exist way after I'm gone.
[00:10:57] I like to think of trees as sort of the perfect socialist society, they will work together. I've already talked about how they will send nutrients to other trees. In some instances, they'll do that when a tree is just a stump, that tree can still survive. The tree can be green underneath the bark because it's connected.
[00:11:19] They don't put a value on certain types of trees, whether or not those trees even have leaves. And they work in conjunction with fungus. I know there's another podcast about mushrooms specifically, but, but fungus in general and where the extent of the trees roots go underneath you, there is also fungus extending even further.
[00:11:44] In some forests if you take a teaspoon of dirt, there can be several miles of fungus in there extending out. And so these fungus work with the trees and they will help carry, sometimes messages, sometimes nutrients to each other. There is a sort of symbiotic relationship between the dirt and the trees and their roots.
[00:12:15] Mkay. Find a place to sit. I got another poem I want to read ya. This one is by Kahlil Gibran. It's from one of my favourite books, The Prophet, the poem is called On Beauty.
[00:12:38] And a poet said, speak to us of beauty. And he answered: where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her, except she be the weaver of your speech? The aggrieved and injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle. Like a young mother half shy of her own glory she walks among us."
[00:13:09] And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread. Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."
[00:13:21] And the tired and weary say, "Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit. Her voice yields to us, our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
[00:13:36] But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains, and with her cries came the sounds of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."
[00:13:48] At night the watchman of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east." And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."
[00:14:05] In winter, the snow bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills." And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
[00:14:21] All these things have you said of beauty, yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied, and beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
[00:14:35] It's not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretch forth, but rather a heart inflamed and a soul enchanted. It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear, but rather an image you see through your closed eyes and a song you hear through your shut ears. It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor the wing attached to a claw, but rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
[00:15:12] Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
[00:15:37] I hope you liked that. That's one of my favorites. Uh, I got one more fact for you on your little walk and then one more poem, and then I'm out of here.
[00:15:51] So this is maybe an abstract way of thinking about it, but trees look after their young, they release so many seeds and generally speaking, they only get about one that is successful, but the way a forest looks after its young. The tall trees way at the top, you know, their leaves, the canopy of the forest, and they're soaking up all the sunlight.
[00:16:18] So any little saplings near the trunks of their mother tree, they don't get a lot of sunlight and that's on purpose. Those trees are not growing up. They're growing out very slowly. And what that's doing is each ring. Each year of that tree of life is actually much closer together. They're gaining density to protect themselves from predators, from the wind, all things like that.
[00:16:47] And, and remember, this is taking place over long periods of time, whenever another tree falls or a branch breaks, and a bit of the canopy opens up again. Little beams of sunlight are hitting the smaller trees at the bottom and that's when they grow up. So they've done, they've spent their time, you know, gaining density, getting thick and strong, and then they can grow up for the small moments until those that part of the canopy is replaced yet again.
[00:17:18] And then they go back into this cycle of, the rings growing close together so that they, when they eventually reach the height of their mother, trees are actually quite strong and sturdy. It's a sort of way of nurturing and making sure that the trees don't grow up too fast so that they aren't strong enough for the winds of the world. It's a beautiful little thing.
[00:17:46] Okay. I have one more little poem for you. It's called morning poem. It's another one by Mary Oliver. This one's actually rather new to me and I've been enjoying it quite a bit.
[00:18:04] Every morning the world is created under the orange sticks of sun. The heaped ashes of the night turned into leaves again and fastened themselves to the high branches. And the ponds appear like a black cloth on which are painted islands of summer lilies. If it is your nature to be happy, you will swim away along the soft trails for hours, your imagination, alighting everywhere.
[00:18:37] And if your spirit carries with it, the thorn that is heavier than lead. If it's all you can do to keep trudging. There is still somewhere deep within you, a beast shouting that the earth is exactly what it wanted. Each pond with its blazing lilies is a prayer heard and answered lavishly every morning, whether or not you have ever dared to be happy, whether or not you have ever dared to pray.
[00:19:15] Thank you friends. This is all I have. I encourage you to keep walking in the ravine or wherever you are. I encourage you to keep drinking, get a little weird, uh, stay safe, but I think it's such a weird time and we can really just enjoy to be around nature and get a little weird in the forest.
[00:19:45] Thanks everybody. This has been Gabe. Uh, I hope you have a lovely day. Thank you for wandering with me.
[00:19:55] Sam: If you'd like to keep wandering, head to another episode now. If not, thanks so much for coming with us. Check out our website for transcripts, resources, and connection with fellow wanderers. Are you a storyteller yourself? I would love to hear from you. The website, email, and more are all in the episode description. We can't wait to wander with you again soon.