Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest

by Suzanne Simard

This spiral of living taught me to become a sower of seeds too, a planter of seedlings, a keeper of saplings, a part of the cycle. The forest itself is part of much larger cycles, the building of soil and migration of species and circulation of oceans. The source of clean air and pure water and good food. There is a

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necessary wisdom in the give-and-take of nature—its quiet agreements and search for balance. There is an extraordinary generosity.

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The trees soon revealed startling secrets. I discovered that they are in a web of interdependence, linked by a system of underground channels, where they perceive and connect and relate with an ancient intricacy and wisdom that can no longer be denied.

the trees have shown me their perceptiveness and responsiveness, connections and conversations.

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.

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.

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When Mother Trees—the majestic hubs at the center of forest communication, protection, and sentience—die, they pass their wisdom to their kin, generation after generation, sharing the knowledge of what helps and what harms, who is friend or foe, and how to adapt and survive in an ever-changing landscape. It’s what all parents do.

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.

Their stomata—the tiny holes that draw in carbon dioxide to join with water to make sugar and pure oxygen—pumped fresh air for me to gulp.

My fascination with tree roots had started from my growing up amazed at the irrepressible power of the cottonwoods and willows my parents had planted in our backyard when their massive roots cracked the foundation of our basement, tilted over the doghouse, and heaved up our sidewalk.

I began the Mother Tree Project in 2015, during my rebirth after cancer. It is the biggest experiment I’ve ever conducted, with a guiding principle of retaining Mother Trees and maintaining connections within forests to keep them regenerative, especially as the climate changes.

The Mother Tree Project consists of nine experimental forests located across a “climate rainbow” in British Columbia—from hot and dry forests in the southeast corner of the province to cold and wet stands in the north-central interior. We are examining the structures and functions of the forests—how webs of relationships play out in real environments and change with forest-cutting patterns that retain various numbers of Mother Trees and plantations that contain different tree-species mixtures.

Our goal is to further develop an emergent philosophy: complexity science. Based on embracing collaboration in addition to competition—indeed, working with all of the multifarious interactions that make up the forest—complexity science can transform forestry practices into what is adaptive and holistic and away from what has been overly authoritarian and simplistic.

But I am hopeful. Sometimes when it seems nothing will budge, there’s a shift.

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.

Go find a tree—your tree. Imagine linking