New Canterbury Tales

‘How are you today my friend?’

My friend doesn’t answer right away, hir [1] takes hirs time as usual. So I take out my equipment to listen to what my friend might tell me. But as always I am invited to sit for a moment and just feel hirs grandness, age and wisdom, take my time. So I sit for a while leaning against my friend and hear a soft whisper telling me to learn to listen without my equipment. But I guess people of my generation lost that ability.

I feel a soft tingling in the air, small electric pulses and there might just be a slight change of smell, I am not sure.

‘See, you are learning, still.’

Did my friend just say that to me, or is it just my voice in my head, wanting to hear this?

I get up and look at my friend, plug in my earpieces and connect them to my equipment. I do not use the needle any more, as I learned that hurts hir and I can collect my data in other ways. Data such as data about humidity, photosynthesis, and more. My equipment reads volatile substances hanging in the air and translates them to sound. They make up a beautiful symphony. When I first heard them, I only listened in astonishment. It takes years of training to make sense of these sounds. They all speak their own dialect, depending on the land they live on, their species, their connections with other species. My friend is one of the guardians of the land we farm for food and as the communities’ gardener and forester it is my job and privilege to communicate with the guardians and thus communicate with the land. Today’s story tells me about the draught of the summer, which is affecting the apple trees downstream. I had not seen it yet. But the apple trees root deep in the ground and shortage is felt there before the trees start to show signs of drought, any signs visible for us humans. I thank my friend, an old pine tree, for the information and head back to the community buildings.

How did I get this job? Or maybe the job isn’t the right word, as nowadays a basic income for everyone is considered one of the fundamental rights of humanity. Somehow, I am still accustomed to this word, job, but maybe I should say occupation. I used to be a carpenter and took a lot of pride in my work. I liked looking for the best pieces of wood and imagine the furniture I would make of it. At a certain point in my life I was no longer satisfied with the wood I found in the wholesale shops and started scouting for the best pieces of wood myself. When I was granted a commission for making a reading table for the Golspie Public Library, I decided this had to be made of a local kind of wood. I didn’t want the cultivated fast-growing pine, as that is of inferior quality. And I realized we still have a large supply of old, slow-growing, pine trees here in Scotland, a heritage of the old Caledonian Forest, a temperate rainforest. So I travelled from my home town Golspie to Rothiemurchus at the border of Cairngorms National Park. I did not really think they would permit me to feel one of their ancient trees, not that easy. But I hoped coming to the Center and showing them my plans for this grand table, might change their minds and make them decide to help me. I was a bit surprised to find a big research Center located at Rothiemurchus, but in those days I was rather single-minded and goal-driven and didn’t pay much attention to it. Of course, I was turned down. Because, well, one doesn’t just go about felling old trees in a National Park. But they invited me to take a hike in the park while they would make an effort for me and get information about where I would be able to get my wood for the table elsewhere. Walking in this ancient forest with its majestic inhabitants was the first time I started to feel the power of the trees.

When I got back to the Rothiemurchus Center they told me there was a small village called Achnaconeran near Ford Augustus, where they were actually in the middle of the process trimming down a piece of wood for housing areas. I would be able to get my wood there. They gave me directions and I jumped on my motorbike, full of expectations. That was all thirty years ago.

And I had no idea at that time how this trip would change my life. Yes I did get to Achnaconeran, but when I got there and saw the fallen trees, I didn’t see a pile of promising wood, I saw dead bodies of ancient spirits and my heart broke. Meanwhile, I was telling myself to get a grip, these were just trees. I was so upset I couldn’t make up my mind about what to do and decided to travel back to Rothiemurchus Center.

To cut a long story short, I stayed there for four years to get my education as a forester, still a job then. I learned a lot about trees. How they communicate through the Wood Wide Web, how they warn each other of danger using pheromones and electric pulses, how they share their resources for the greater goal. And many things more.

And what is even more important, I met my partner there. She was researching new economics and is one of the founders of the now common movement of Treeconomics, a sharing economy inspired by the way trees share their resources, a common pot of assets that go to the ones who need them the most at that moment.

Arriving at the Community I see my spouse waiting for me at the gate of our Treeconomic Hub, a small dwelling of apartments with a shared kitchen and garden. This Hub is part of a bigger society, worldwide, sharing not only supplies (local) but also knowledge. Like we are all leaves on a bigger tree, or all small trees in a big forest.

‘How is old Guardian Pine doing?’, my partner asks.

‘Oh, hir is alright, but hir told me the apple trees are starting to feel the draught.’

‘So maybe we should get some help from the beavers upstream?’

‘We could try that, but I would like to talk to Ralph about that first. You know their damming system is very important for more areas than just ours.’

‘Of course, dear, did Guardian Pine have any ideas?’

‘I am not sure, hir didn’t tell me so much in words, maybe I will dream about it tonight.’

The dreams are a new phenomenon for me. They started a few months ago and feel like a new way of communicating with the trees. More and more foresters have started to experience these dreams, but only after reaching a certain age or a certain amount of experience of talking with the trees. The dreams only appear on nights after time spending in the shadows of the big old trees, taking time to connect with them.

‘Maybe you should come with me, Leslie’. My partner has invited me to come with her on her travels several times. She is a story collector for the Treeconomy Foundation. She made collecting wisdom from the trees her occupation. With the help of smart devices, she refines the way we use collected data from the trees and translates them to a language we can understand. Over the years she collected hundreds of stories, helping us all to understand how large this network really is and how it works. And learning valuable lessons from the trees, which are incorporated into the ideology of Treeconomics.

‘I don’t know, I like staying here you know, I am not as young and restless as I used to be and it is a long journey.’

‘But Leslie, this opportunity, you could be of so much help!’

I look at my loved one, still as lively as she was when I first met her. She loves to travel, she likes sitting in trains and feel the landscape flow by. She used to fly all over the world in her younger days, but she says she likes the trains better. She still travels a lot as a story collector. Whenever an old tree dies, hir communicates hir wisdom to hirs seedlings.  When a very old tree is going to die, my partner travels to be present at the moment and record hirs story. Hoping to be able to translate those stories and make sense of it. Sometimes it is just stories about the soil, but sometimes there is more, lessons from history. Trees have seen and witnessed so much.

‘Leslie, your dreaming…’

Yes, my dreaming. I am wondering too, what would I dream if I spent some days sitting in the shadow of a dying tree? What wisdom could that bring us?

‘Ok,’ I say, ‘I’ll do it. I will come with you. All for the greater good right?’

My partner hugs me and smiles. She knew I would come around in the end. Sharing is not only about sharing resources but also about sharing abilities.

‘Come on grumpy, you will love it, I am sure.’

Honestly, I am not so sure, what kind of dreams do ancient trees have? Sweet dreams or nightmares?

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[1] The word ‘hir’ originates from 2025 when people needed a new word for someone neither she nor he.