And of the two webs, which is the more resilient? Which requires outside sources of energy to power it? I think you know the answer: One Google search is equal to turning on a 60W light bulb for 17 seconds.
We know that trees make us happy. Why? We’re not sure. I imagine that most people my age, those who spent their childhood summers running wild outside, hold their favorite trees in memory. That one secret tree that cherished them, no matter what. Mine was the beautiful willow in our back yard. I would sit up there for hours, unseen and surrendered, to her solid silent serenity. Time stopped. Love settled in.
Climbing down I would hardly remember that afternoon. What had just happened? Where did I go?
Later, when I left the desert of south central Idaho for college, and noticed all across this vast land how trees, so rare that each one had to be planted, and tended, in Twin Falls, Idaho, grew increasingly thick and various as the bus drove east. The vast treed landscape of the land east of the Mississippi River thrilled me.
Now I walk in the hardwood forests of Southern In-Diana, whenever I am in need of solace. Grateful, as ever, for the company.
May we learn from the trees how to live in harmony with both each other and the Earth.
Last month in India, 800,000 volunteers planted 50 million trees in 24 hours. Clearly, when there is a will, there is a way.
A few days ago I heard about a young woman in Bloomington, back a few years before I arrived, who sat high in a 70-foot oak tree for five months, refusing to come down even during thunderstorms. She was protesting a planned apartment development in a swatch of forest on the west side of town, which of course, despite community protests, eventually got built.
What would happen if we really and truly began to feel the aliveness with a single tree? Within a community of trees? How would we humans change?