On the south-facing slope of the large hill behind my home there is a cluster of trees, larch in fact, that stand sentinel above the other trees on the slope facing out into the bay. True, there are other, more numerous, clusters of trees all over the hill, but this small stand, clustered here, seem a group apart.
I can never walk the mountain path without stopping to look at them, to contemplate them and their sheer differentness. For one thing, they seem to wear different moods within different areas of the one stand. Those facing outward over the town, the ones that get the most sun, naturally seem brightest and strongest, their outlook sunny, whereas those facing inward toward the mountain seem more sullen by dint of their resting in shadow for most of the time. There is always a damp, misty coolness that radiates out from the base of these trees, their trunks and lower branches covered in damp algae, bringing to life the chill darkness of the woodlands inhabiting the imaginations of the Brothers Grimm.
But still, for all the differences between them, there seems a unity about them, best represented by one of those on the outer fringes of the group, more exposed and partially blown over by the storm, now leaning against one of the inner trees like a lover on the shoulder of its partner.
There may be no need for any anthropomorphic similes to bring these trees to life. Research articles I recently read suggest that all trees in a given area are interconnected by surface fungi which act as arboreal neural transmitters as well as miniature roadways down which the trees share carbon dioxide and water, the strongest and oldest trees helping to nurture and support younger saplings, guiding them toward growth and maturity. It has also been recorded that trees under attack by insects can release particular chemicals that trigger similar protective chemical releases in other trees that have “picked up the message” and reacted accordingly: HROOM! HROOM!
Whatever the truth may be about the trees and their ways of silent communication, I prefer to think of things in a less scientific manner, standing and watching as they stretch up, antennae in the air, picking up some indistinct message from the ether (sssh…sssh…sssh…) Maybe if I stay and listen long enough, the signal will become clearer and I’ll be able to work out what it means.
