Trees in fog stand without leaves, dark stems in a maze of inexhaustible intricacy. Patterns laid upon patterns in a seeming randomness that gives way to a single beautiful scene. These life fountains spring from the ground, rising from a dark and mysterious world fully charged with life. They rise and rise and then spread. From the end of every branch tip drip the fountains. Seeds rain down, feeding birds and mammals. We breathe these trees through our lungs, shelter ourselves with their wood, and fill our bodies with the energy of their fruit.
These fountains of life are incredible beings that perform so many services for free and indefinitely. They have the ability to reproduce themselves, run on sun and rain, build wood out of carbon in the sky, create flavors, carbohydrates, proteins, fats, medicine, and vitamins. We are just tiny animals scampering beneath them, picking up their gifts as fast as we can, because there is not enough time to keep up with the rain of presents. The feel of autumn in the wind pushes us to gather faster, filling bucket after bucket. The harvest looks staggering. It fills trucks and porches. Where will we put it all? and How will we have time to process all this? are some of the thoughts we have, and still there is so much more lying on the ground. Millions of pounds in my county alone.
“Mind if I gather nuts off your lawn?” They are waste to my culture; it’s a chore to rake them up off the grass. The gifts of the trees, of the Universe, are largely ignored. It is a strange world indeed. I can’t explain the physical joy I feel filling buckets with nuts. Crawling around on my hands and knees surrounded by a staggering abundance, I sometimes laugh out loud like a madman and look around to see if anyone heard me. Sometimes a guy on a bicycle stares at me. But I have no time to worry about that. It is the harvest season and I am flying high. I need to keep reminding myself to stay calm.
The heart of the gatherer is one of gratitude and amazement. I have been astounded so many times harvesting. As I start to pick up the first bushels of wild pears, I realize just how much is there. I sell wild pears to a cidery that presses them into perry (pear wine, which is a very excellent drink with a long history in Europe). Last fall my family and a friend gathered over 3,000 pounds of wild pears from a handful of trees in two days. Over 1,000 pounds came from a single tree. Seeing that much fruit does something to you. It is impossible not to be impressed even if you aren’t interested in pears. But we are interested; it’s a part of our livelihood, and each bushel is cash. We gather with speed and efficiency, sometimes chatting, sometimes working silently. It is good work, work our bodies and minds were built for. At night we see pears when we close our eyes. We have a connection to those trees. We care what happens to them. To us, it seems like a good idea to plant more of them. The highest level of appreciation comes through participation.
I hope that this book inspires you to gather and plant. The trees here are some of the most enjoyable beings on Earth to work with. If you watch for them, they will overwhelm you sometimes. It will seem like they are merely offering you thousands of pounds of food and seed for free, but they have their own interests at heart. By taking from them, you will be helping them. You will be partnered. Your work on this world does not have to be drudgery or bad for the planet. By working with trees we can find abundance and spread it.
Life circles around trees; it is drawn in like a magnet. One crab apple tree in the middle of winter will pull in birds, possums, mice, deer, raccoons, wild children, and countless other forms of life. Animals and people will travel for miles to gather persimmons and chestnuts. Songbirds will flock to mulberries. These are magnetic trees, fountains of life that shower the Earth with abundant gifts. When we become aware of these trees, we can begin to work with them and elevate the level of abundance in our world to staggering heights.
Humans can have a positive influence on nature. We can enhance ecosystems to the benefit of ourselves and wildlife at the same time. I see a world filled with endless opportunity. There are gifts falling down all around us. Many folks don’t see them at all, even while they are taking the time to pick up these presents and throw them away. This book is a guide and a catalyst. I hope that it helps you realize there is good work to do everywhere and that you can be a positive force for nature and for yourself. You can harvest food and medicine, make money, breathe gratitude, and leave beauty in your wake by working with trees. They are filled with power, and that power is freely offered to us. Partnering with trees is as natural as breathing. We inhale their exhalations and they inhale ours. We are designed to work with each other.
This clover plant can deposit nitrogen and carbon deep into the soil a lot easier than I can.
The trees in this book are my allies. They feed me, keep me warm, provide money, shelter, medicine, and tools. These beings that feed on light do amazing work. Fruit, nuts, flowers, shade, wildlife, and wood—trees are offering, always offering. Stretched toward the sky, rooted into the earth, they offer a partnership. I think you will find, if you work with trees, that they are extremely generous beings. You will find yourself showered in more abundance than you are able to receive. I would rather partner with trees than any bank, institution, or lawmaker. These trees are my allies and they can be yours, too.
Every seed, cutting, or small tree that you ever hold in your hands wants to live. It wants the same thing you do. You are its ally as much as it yours. You are able to see and do things that are not possible for the plant. Humans can be amazing helpers to the plants we choose to work with. Alliances work both ways.
Where there is a dry rocky soil, we can change that. Where there are strip mines, eroded hillsides, or poisoned ground, we can add plants, who can do the healing work that’s needed. They will do the work of bringing things back, they will build the soil and feed the birds. They can make it all happen, and they will, with or without us. The plants are the stewards of the Earth, taking care of all the animals, feeding us all.
If you want to add carbon to the soil, you can dig a hole and shovel it in. You can also let roots extend down through cracks in the rock and deposit carbon for you. Let the plants do the work. They want to.
Tree Crops and Soil Carbon
In 1929 J. Russell Smith wrote a very powerful book called Tree Crops. It is about how trees can provide the crops that annuals do. Crops like corn, wheat, and soybeans can be replaced or supplemented with oak, chestnut, hazel, and hickory. Life can continue from year to year when the crops are grown on trees. The soil is saved and built upon. In our current system of annual agriculture, life is erased at least once a year. Just look at a field after it’s been plowed—it could not be made more barren. We can do better, and that is what Tree Crops is all about.
In Smith’s book the trees are given grain equivalents. For example, chestnuts are a corn tree, kiawe trees are stock feed trees, walnuts are meat and butter trees, and so on. This concept has inspired my work and is a huge reason why I am writing this book. If J. Russell Smith were alive today, I would love to thank him. His book and concepts are revolutionary. Grain growing on trees sounds simple, but it is remarkably powerful in practice.
The benefits that tree crops can provide are multifaceted. They are far-reaching, powerful benefits that have an effect on wildlife, soil, water, nutrients, climate, and even our human consciousness.
When we dig up a patch of ground with a shovel or nine-bottom plow, a lot happens. Air is brought into the soil rapidly. Microbial activity skyrockets. Carbon is burned off very fast—it literally vaporizes into the atmosphere. Erosion and climate change are the biggest problems created by annual agriculture. J. Russell Smith offered a solution back in 1929. His book not only speaks of philosophy but also gives examples of people around the world using tree crops for thousands of years.
Changing the color of a field from green to brown has enormous consequences. There is a reason that nature covers the soil. When rain strikes bare soil, it compacts it, changing its structure to create a more impervious layer. This leads to runoff and erosion. When bare soil is exposed to air, the organic matter becomes volatilized. Organic matter is essentially carbon, and when carbon meets oxygen, carbon dioxide is formed. CO2 is light enough to float away. Every time a field is plowed, CO2 floats up into the atmosphere. This is detrimental not only to the climate, but also to soil.
Scientists now debate which leads to more greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, transportation or tillage. Maybe you don’t believe what scientists say. I often don’t: They seem to change their paradigm every couple of generations. What I do know is that carbon is burned off when its exposed. I can see this in a rotting compost pile that shrinks and shrinks over time. It’s not sinking into the soil and breaking down; it’s actually vaporizing into the air. Some nutrients leach out into the soil, but many more actually vaporize. You can even smell the loss of nitrogen and other nutrients around some compost piles and around most farms. It is fully understood and accepted that plowing fields is a huge factor in climate change as, by its very nature, tillage burns carbon. When we drive by plowed-up acres of brown dirt, we are looking at a piece of land that’s far removed from nature’s design. The soil structure is being destroyed and massive amounts of carbon are heading up into the sky.
There are alternatives, beautiful ones that make economic and ecological sense. The soil’s capacity to store and build carbon is highly underutilized by our current agricultural system, dependent as it is upon annual crops. I think of the soil as an enormous sponge that can soak up huge amounts of carbon.
All this extra carbon in the atmosphere comes from ancient forests that were buried and turned to coal and oil over time. It is the bodies of ancient trees we are burning in engines these days. This same carbon has been racing around and through the planet since forever. It is the plants who pull it out of the sky.
Carbon in the soil is translated as organic matter. Organic matter holds four times its weight in water, while at the same time it drains very well through a network of capillaries. Soils high in organic matter can absorb tremendous amounts of rain in a very short time period. They can supply moisture to plants evenly over long time spans. However, organic matter is vulnerable to exposure; it is easily washed away or volatilized into the atmosphere. New England soils from the late 1700s contained about 20 percent organic matter. These soils were totally resilient in their ability to deal with droughts and floods. As forests were cleared and land was plowed, organic matter was lost into the rivers and the atmosphere. Today it is common for agricultural fields to contain around 1 percent organic matter.
Carbon belongs in the soil. The cultivation of annuals leads to carbon moving into the atmosphere. The soil is where we can store carbon, where we can use it. The best way to put carbon back into the soil is through the roots of plants. Through their leaves, they suck carbon dioxide right out of the air. They use this carbon to build their bodies, above- and belowground. As plants and trees die, the carbon is released back into the air and soil.
We have heard some interesting solutions to climate change, everything from improved lightbulbs to launching thousands of mirrors into space to reflect the sun’s rays. It’s a complex world and I do not claim to have all the answers. What I do know is that the soil is an enormous sponge that can soak up all the carbon we burn. Adding carbon to the soil benefits plants, growers, and life in general. Tree crops are one method for increasing soil carbon—simple, cheap, and effective. Sometimes it’s hard to see that the best solutions have been right in front of us the whole time.
If we want to slow down climate change, then we should burn less fossil fuels, but if we want to reverse it, then here is a way. Plants drink carbon. They put it down into their roots, deeper than you will ever reach with a shovel or a plow. Plants bury carbon. Bare soil burns it. Our system of annual agriculture is destroying plant and animal communities and altering the climate. I believe that in transitioning from annual agriculture to perennial plantings, we would not only slow climate change, but reverse it. I am not alone in this belief.
A 0.4 percent increase in soil carbon stocks each year would offset all the carbon we burn.1 It really is that simple. We can store all the carbon we need to in the soil. It would be profitable to farmers, decrease drought and flood damage, and reverse climate change. Maybe you are asking, “Why don’t we do that?” Some of us already are. We are not waiting for governments or universities. Many farmers are already working on this. They have taken the soil-carbon challenge and are seeing just how fertile they can make their lands. Reversing climate change is a by-product of sound agricultural practices.
Fields like this look normal to our trained eyes, but they are patches of land where ecology has been reduced to near zero, and where carbon and nutrients are being vaporized and leached out rapidly.
Tree crops offer an alternative agriculture of abundance, one that has been flourishing for the last few millennia. Here are planted chestnut trees in front of a stand of black walnut with the hillside covered in wild oak and hickory. Hemlock Grove Farm, West Danby, New York.
The carbon cycle is one of the most powerful forces on Earth. Understanding it is the key to climate change.
The loss of carbon in the soil happens simply from exposure to air. Rain and intense sun make it worse, but it happens very fast anywhere that the mulch or plant layer is removed. The level of carbon in the soil is what makes it great or poor. High-carbon soils can retain more water and drain well at the same time. It sounds impossible, but that is the magic of organic matter—good drainage and simultaneous water retention.
People Do Care About Nature
People care what happens on this planet. The media and mainstream public are not so aware of this, but you should be. A lot of people care. I know: I speak to them all the time because of my work. There are many people who really care about frogs and rivers and oceans. There are countless people who love nature, are inspired by her, and value nature beyond any measure of money. I don’t know why we are not more widely represented, but I do know that I can be a voice for nature. I refuse to be shy about how much I love trees and wildlife. If people think that’s weird, I think they are weird. I love the Earth. In fact, how ridiculous is it to not love the Earth? And yet people will label you for doing so. They will call you a tree hugger or a radical. I think it is radical to cut down 95 percent of our forests, plow up all the grasslands, poison rivers until they are undrinkable, and kill people for cheaper oil. I don’t think I’m a radical compared with the actions of my civilization. The weird thing is that most people in this civilization agree with me. They love trees and rivers and wildlife. We are all just caught up with the movement of the herd. We can see that the herd is not going the best way, but so many of us are not saying anything about it even though we care. When you speak up about your love for nature, you will be surprised at how many people feel the same way. But the important thing is to not just speak about it. You’ve got to do something, and that is the purpose of this book: to show you some great things you can do.
The Caretaker
As humans we have a tremendous amount of power at our disposal. We can use our power in any direction. It’s not necessarily positive or negative, creative or destructive; it is simply power. We can use our power to foster staggering abundance and diversity or we can use it to create a mass extinction. We can steer our power in many directions.
The human species can be caretakers for wildlife. We can enhance habitat more profoundly than any other animal. Beavers have their role, slowing creeks into ponds. Bees pollinate flowers, herbivores enrich the soil, birds spread seeds … every species has its role, its contribution. Ours has become lost to us, but it is one we can regain.
There was a time when humans enhanced habitat. They did it for themselves, as all animals do. It was beneficial to have large populations of wildlife for hunting. Forests were thinned heavily, grasslands were burned, fruit and nut trees encouraged. The results were abundant ecosystems that fed people and wildlife. Yet today we believe that food comes from farms and that farms are big open fields of one crop. The truth is much more complicated.
I believe there may have been more food in America before European contact than there is today. If you think that’s crazy, consider these facts. Today there are 80 million cattle in the United States compared with an estimated 60 million wild bison 500 years ago. Pound for pound that’s about the same, and those bison lived without fences, feed, antibiotics, or water inputs. They reproduced without artificial insemination. Those bison also lived alongside massive herds of elk, antelope, and deer, all of which fed on perennial grasses that never needed irrigation because their roots extended dozens of feet beneath the surface of the American prairie. There are stories of salmon filling rivers. Sturgeon spawns that fed ancient cities, billions of shellfish, and massive nut trees, like the ancient American chestnuts that covered the ground with nuts a foot deep. I’m not going to attempt to do the math, but I think the loss of fish, large herbivores, and giant nut trees has not been equally replaced with the calories that industrialized agriculture provides.
There is a fallacy that North America was once a wild continent where nature abounded because the people were simple and primitive. This is a lie propagated by a European culture that was blind to the decimated civilization they encountered. They could not see the managed landscape because it did not fit into their idea of farming. They did not see the millions of people who died in the wake of disease that spread faster than they did. There were cities in North and South America that were as big as any in the world at the time. Cahokia was a city in Ohio that had trade routes established from Nova Scotia to the Rocky Mountains.
If you have not read Charles Mann’s book 1491, I cannot recommend it highly enough. It shattered my beliefs about the American wilderness. This “pristine” land was managed by people. America was home to the largest forest gardens in the world, and to thriving cities. It was as populated as Asia or Europe at the time before contact. We were all lied to in school. Perhaps you heard the story of Cortés conquering the Aztec empire with a few dozen soldiers on horseback. The truth is, Cortés enlisted the help of the Aztec’s rivals. Along with 200,000 native soldiers, Cortés fought the Aztec in one of the largest battles in ancient history. I don’t know why we were lied to, why we were taught that Native American contributions were small and insignificant—that they were just simple nature lovers. Perhaps our teachers’ teachers could not bear the thought of living on top of a decimated civilization that was able to thrive without degrading the environment. They felt too guilty, or maybe they were blinded by racism. Just remember, our version of history has been passed down to us by people who fully believed in slavery, oppression of women, and the white man’s burden.
I’m sure there are lots of other things they left out. Archaeologists are discovering many of them today. It has been our belief that the Amazon was always a wilderness. We are now learning that it was home to a great civilization with extensive trade networks, enormous orchards, and one of the biggest cities of the ancient world, rivaling Egypt’s. An entire civilization vanished from disease, leaving behind pottery shards, deep black soil, and giant food trees that still live today. These people knew how to stabilize tropical soils; they knew how to live in a way that enriched the land around them. They left behind some clues for us to learn how they did it.
Without a history of lies, we can see that people are able to thrive and nature can thrive at the same time. I actually believe that we can’t thrive without vibrant nature. If you think our civilization is thriving, consider our rates of suicide, depression, and complaining. People in my country are among the richest and most miserable people in the world. Many of us hold deep-seated guilt about destroying oceans, rain forests, and the future, whether we admit it or not. No one feels good about the destruction of nature, not even the most narcissistic billionaire holed up in his tower. People care about nature; it is part of who we are. It tugs on all of our heartstrings.
We can be the caretakers. We have tremendous tools at our disposal, tools for digging, communication, and travel. We can share seeds from around the world and engage in some of the most remarkable breeding programs. Knowledge can be spread from one insightful person to millions of others. We can dig ponds and plant trees at a rate that surpasses any other civilization in the history of the world by a thousandfold. We can choose to use our powers to enhance diversity, deepen soils, and spread abundance. We have the tools. The time is ripe. People are starving for meaningful work. There is plenty to do. No time for self-pity or blame. It is time to plant trees.
This is still an ecosystem. It is a community of plants, birds, mammals, insects, and microorganisms, regardless of any opinions or judgments.
Taking on the role of caretaker does not mean that ecosystems are just managed for wildlife. Caretaking means that we are producing food, medicine, fuel, and fiber from land that is enriched by our activity. For caretaking to actually work, it needs to be profitable. If it is not profitable, then very few people will engage in it. Time is precious. I cannot devote very much time to planting trees just for birds. In order for me to be caretaking, farming, and parenting at the same time, I stack functions. I coax into existence ecosystems that are beneficial to me and wildlife at the same time. It is in my best interests to stabilize and build soil, to have high populations of bats and insect-eating birds, and to maintain a highly diverse plant community. I pull carbon out of the sky, not because I am concerned about climate change, but because the trees I grow make money, pay my bills, and feed my family. It’s important for caretaking to be in the best interests of everyone. Drawing a line on a map and designating a wildlife sanctuary only goes so far. We need land for growing food and for people’s houses. We do not need bare-dirt monoculture farming and tract housing with sterile landscape shrubs next to the pristine, untouched nature preserve. We can have diverse farms that build soil and increase biodiversity. We can have neighborhoods filled with fruit and nut trees, berry bushes, medicinal flowering perennials, and gardens. Caretaking benefits us as much as it benefits wildlife. To draw a line between us and nature hurts everyone involved. Nature, the ecosystem, is everywhere, in every neighborhood and city that has a plant. You don’t have to drive to a national park to see an ecosystem. There is one right outside your door. It may be dysfunctional, but it is there, waiting for your hands.
To the Environmentalist
For lots of reasons, the environmental movement has become fairly unpopular today. The movement is generally viewed as a bunch of whiny liberals disconnected from where their food, cars, and lifestyle come from. Environmentalists are associated with holding up signs saying NO to everything. Opposition comes in hard and heavy because environmentalists are thought to be trying to stop industry and slow our precious economy. Fear of losing out on any profits has become justification for stomping out environmental justice. Like many topics, it has become polarized.
There is a better path forward. As environmentalists, we can view the whole movement completely differently. Right now, the movement is focused on reducing fossil fuels, creating buffer zones for wildlife, and saving endangered species. I get it. It’s outrageous how our culture treats nature with no respect, no reverence. It’s disgusting to watch millions of acres gobbled up by bucket wheel excavators on the tar sands. It’s utterly depressing to hear about another million-barrel oil spill in the ocean. It’s hard to take when we see the trajectory of climate change. There is a saying in the environmental movement: “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.”
I understand that completely. I have chained myself to government facilities and gone to jail; I’ve screamed my head off at dozens of organized protests. I understand the frustration and the need to stop the destruction. I also now understand that anger is a very ineffective tool.
When you show someone anger, they will instantly become defensive and then, often, offensive. You won’t convince anyone of anything by yelling at them.
The best way to create change is to create alternative options that are so much more appealing than the status quo. For example, let’s say you are concerned about palm oil plantations destroying rain forests in Southeast Asia. You could tell everyone you can to stop buying palm oil; you can make a video about it, write a book describing the horrors of deforestation and the loss of orangutans. You can shout and shout about it, but at the end of the day, people are often going to buy what is on the shelf at the store. If you wanted to get people to buy less palm oil, then at some point you have to offer an alternative, and it should be better than palm oil. Telling people all about the hazelnuts you grow and process into oil is a lot more inspiring than trying to make them feel guilty about buying palm oil. You will get a lot more traction by offering something new or creating positive choices for folks to make. If you just say no all the time, then you are actually a negative force. To create positive change, we have to be a creative, positive force. It is much harder than traditional protests. It takes a lot of energy, knowledge, inspiration, and faith. That faith comes from understanding our sphere of influence.
Sphere of Influence
The problems of the Earth are overwhelming. Looking around I can see my government engaged in a never-ending war, tar sands stretching across western Canada, deforestation of the tropics, the demise of polar bears, climate change, nuclear proliferation, drones killing families, child soldiers, dolphins caught in nets, hydraulic fracking, the poisoning of the Niger River, the melting of the Arctic, hemlock woolly adelgids, mountaintop removal, and a wasteful culture accepting of all this irreverent destruction. It can get a person down. It is overwhelming unless we work within our own personal sphere of influence and trust others to do the same.
I have been inspired to plant trees and create a new kind of agriculture, one that builds soils, slows climate change, feeds people, and increases biodiversity. I cannot work on that and work on nukes or the oceans or prisoner rights. I don’t ignore those issues, but I would be less effective if I thought I needed to fix everything. I trust that there are people who care deeply about the Appalachian Mountains and are working to stop mountaintop removal. I trust that there are people who are working on the rights of prisoners and others working on the acidification of the oceans.
My sphere of influence is determined by my inspiration and my reach. I speak to people who might plant trees. I don’t waste my time on congresspeople. I trust that someone else in the environmental movement is following their passion. I am grateful for people who are out there talking to Congress, and those standing up and blocking pipelines, and the ones in the South Seas intercepting illegal whaling ships; I am grateful for all the work being done out there by the children of the Earth. I wish I could join them all, but I know that I would be less effective. Following my own inspiration, I trust that others will follow theirs.
We can create real changes if we are not overwhelmed. I can work efficiently and productively within my sphere. The ripple effects of my work may carry much farther than I imagined, but I cannot get caught up in trying to save the whole world. I stay on point and plant tree after tree, all the while inspiring others. My sphere of influence may have started small, but by staying committed to my inspiration, it spreads and grows just like my trees do. Working from a place of inspiration is very different from working out of anger.
It is impossible to see the effects of your actions. They ripple out and out. Yellowstone National Park has a dark history of wildlife eradication. When the park was first created by Theodore Roosevelt, retired soldiers were hired to kill all the predators. Among many other effects, herbivore populations exploded. The land became highly imbalanced and the ecosystems grew fragile. In recent decades, though, wolves were reintroduced into Yellowstone. Researchers watched eagerly to see what effect this would have on herbivore populations. What they saw went far beyond a balanced population of predators and prey. Elk and deer changed their habits. They no longer freely browsed anywhere. Instead they became elusive and stayed out of the open. Vegetation along rivers and streams skyrocketed. Erosion was greatly reduced and the course of rivers literally altered. If adding wolves to an ecosystem can change the course of a river, what unforeseen effects will your inspired actions create?
I once heard a great quote from the author/caretaker Derrick Jensen when he was giving an interview about the environment. It went something like this: “It’s as if someone is at the ER and they have some stab wounds and the doctors are trying to patch them up, but while they are sewing stitches, the attacker is still stabbing them.” This is what it feels like to stand up for nature, to be an environmentalist. You are like the doctor, stitching wounds while more are being made. I’m grateful for the people who are stitching up the wounds—we need them. I want to stop the attacker. I want the attacker to turn their head away from their stabbing because they see something beautiful out of the corner of their eye. I want the population to become aware of positive, profitable alternatives. I want the attacker to put down the knife, not because I scared them, but because I inspired them. Punishing and berating the attacker may stop them for a moment, but sooner or later they will do it again. To create real change, we’ve got to create real change.
Wreck the World Slower
A lot of the environmental movement has become associated with things that are intended to slow down destruction. Efficient lightbulbs, electric cars, solar panels, recycled paper, shorter showers, and veganism are all efforts to slow down ecological collapse. I don’t want to wreck the world slower; I don’t want to wreck it at all. Follow your inspirations, not your fears. We environmentalists can be overwhelmed by the destruction we see, but we can move from a place of creation. We can shine a light so bright that even the blind money-chasers of Wall Street will see it. The only way to do this is through true inspiration, by following passions and dreams. It is necessary to understand that you are not bad for the Earth. You are not a mistake of creation or a disease. You are simply energy. You can create some of the most abundant and diverse habitat ever seen. You have tools that can make you more effective than your ancestors. You can tiptoe around hoping not to hurt anything, or you can educate yourself, step in, and make the world better.
Perhaps you have heard the phrase Leave no trace or Take only pictures. This epitomizes thinking in the environmental movement—that nature is fragile and needs protection. The truth is, we are all part of nature. It cannot be separated by lines on a map. Our involvement in nature can enhance or hinder biodiversity. It is a matter of making educated choices. Instead of trying to have as little impact as possible, I want to have a huge impact. I want to leave behind millions of trees, a bunch of ponds, enriched soil, and wild stories. If the goal of environmentalists is to have no impact, then the best thing they could do would be to die—that would have the least impact. Even in death, though, their body will feed the soil. We are having an impact no matter what. Make it one that you are proud of. If you are not sure how to do that, then listen closely to the world. Look at nature everywhere you go and see what is happening. Learn to identify plants and trees so that you can actually read the story being told by the world, not the news. If you seek a path forward, you will find it. Nature is talking loudly all the time; you have just been domesticated and conditioned not to hear her. Learn as much as you can about trees, plants, animals, fungi, and ecosystems, and you will see so many places where you can step in and become a powerful positive force. In fact, once you are able to see what is happening in ecosystems, you will find yourself with nowhere near enough time to act out all your inspirations.
Taking from Nature
We have no choice but to take from nature. We must eat and drink. Many people are so disconnected from their food that they don’t realize how much taking there is. Every day, it is a lot. In my early 20s I became obsessed with nature and wilderness survival. By living simply with primitive skills, I formed a connection to my food. I took every drop of it myself and saw just how much I took. I killed constantly to feed myself the bodies of plants and animals. At first I felt guilty and tried to take as little as possible. I had an attitude of apology. In time I learned to develop an attitude of gratitude instead. We are part of this system of carbon eating carbon, life transforming itself through the endless chase of animal to soil to plant to animal to soil. During my first full survival campout, I learned that my body was directly powered by what I ate. If I ate nothing, I had no energy. If I ate frogs and cattail roots, then I was powered by that energy. I literally take them inside me.
What we perceive as taking from nature is not actually taking. Energy is neither created nor destroyed. You are taking life to have life. Something is killed for you to have energy. When I kill a deer and eat it, I have that energy in my body. What I do with that energy matters more to me when I remember this. Am I taking life so that I can lie around and feel sorry for myself, or am I taking life so that I can spin webs of beauty, spreading kindness and seeds? I don’t remember this all the time, but I am grateful whenever I do. It’s important to give back and feel good about what you take. Don’t be hard on yourself; treat yourself with the same kindness that you would wish on anyone else, and go out there and do some good work. If you don’t know what that work is yet, then listen very closely when you interact with the world. Sooner or later, if you’re listening, you’ll find the work that is meant for you. We are not a mistake of creation. We have the same value and right to be here as everything else. It’s okay for us to take from nature; it is how we can give back.
I was once talking to a woman who was telling me about the cherry tree in her yard. It was dripping with fruit. She felt guilty taking from the tree; she thought she shouldn’t take too much. I asked her, “Why do you think that tree made the fruit so good? It wants you to take it and spit the seeds out all over the place. If you ever feel guilty about collecting food from nature, then find a way to give back.” Some years I collect a ridiculous amount of hickory nuts. I realize there will be less for the squirrels (I harvest a lot). I can offset this by planting and establishing just a couple of hickory trees. The trees I plant and establish will live beyond my time and feed countless squirrels and other wildlife. You don’t have to feel guilty; you can be grateful. You can plant trees to be sure that your presence on Earth will lead to wonderful events. You are designed to take from nature. It is the same for all creatures on this planet. Do so consciously, and you cannot help but create benefits for wildlife.
Having Energy to Do the Work
Environmentalists can burn out pretty fast. Traditional environmental activist work is tiring and largely unrewarding. How long can you carry on protests when it seems like no one is listening? Grant writing and lobbying involve time indoors in front of screens. This is pretty tough on the soul of a nature lover. It is important for environmentalists to directly connect with what they are fighting for. Spend time in the woods, in the fields, or the ocean. Know nature, feel nature, and return to the fight with a fire in your heart that cannot be put out. Return to nature constantly for rejuvenation of spirit, for new ideas, and for a healthy mind and body. You cannot just sit in an office and be an environmentalist. You have to also be in the environment. To be truly inspired, you may have to actually get outside!
Doing the work takes a lot of energy. Planting, weeding, pruning, felling, digging all take energy. Feeling lazy won’t go very far; being tired won’t leave a wake of inspiration, and it sure as heck won’t bring back the chestnut. Understand that you do not have a finite amount of energy. Watching TV and lying on the couch all day will not save energy for you to use later. A human is more like a wellspring. Taking water from a well causes new fresh water to come in. Leaving water in a well leads to stagnation. It is the same with your energy. The more you use, the more will flow freely into your body.
Stretch your body, breathe deeply, exercise, awaken your senses and run. You will not wear yourself out by doing things. You will run yourself down by doing nothing. Wellsprings of energy exist in you. The more you use them, the more they will flow. You are part of creation, a powerful and mysterious force. Don’t diminish that by thinking you are just a rain barrel with a limited amount of water. You are the wellspring. You don’t need to save your energy for later. Use it now, and you will have even more. People who run ultra-marathons (100-or-more-mile races) run all the time. The more they run, the more energy they have. They don’t sit around for a month saving energy until the day of the big race. It is the same with the Earth caretaker. I can work 10 times faster than I did 10 years ago. My movements are efficient far beyond my past. I am filled with more and more energy the more I do.
Sometimes I need to rest, and I do. There are also times when I feel tired and lazy and I don’t want to. The best thing to do when that happens is to get up and stretch. Start moving, start breathing deeply. Yoga, Wim Hof techniques, running, meditations, martial arts, cold-water immersion, and extremely deep breathing are all methods for increasing energy. Get over the inertia, and the energy will start to flow when you move. The more you are aware of the energy in your body, the more it will be activated.
With increased energy, we are more effective caretakers.
Plants Are Sentient Beings
I still remember the first time I realized that plants were living, sentient beings. It was at night in a city park in Boston. I was 19 and becoming awakened to the aliveness and beauty of the world around me for the first time. I remember sitting on the grass. It was a warm night. I was staring at the stalk and seed head of a narrow-leaf plantain (at the time, I had no idea what this plant was called). It is a common weed of lawns, but on this night it was clearly alive. The way that it arched is burned in my mind. That image is with me today, full of power. I could feel that this plant felt me; it was aware of my presence. This experience is beyond description. I have known without a doubt ever since that plants are alive as much as I am.
Scientists are proving that plants are cognizant, sentient beings. Monica Gagliano has conducted incredible experiments showing that plants have a sense of hearing and memory. She is one of the leaders in the newly developing field of plant cognition. In one experiment a plant is grown in a pot shaped like an upside-down Y. The roots can grow in either direction of the Y. Without any inputs, they grow in both directions equally. However, when a tape recorder of rushing water is placed next to one side, most of the roots grow to that side. That is a tape recorder, not actual water. They are sensing the vibrations of sound and responding. I can define sensing vibrations of sound as hearing.
In another experiment plants are placed in a dark room. A fan is turned on from one direction. After the fan is turned on, a grow light is turned on from the same side as the fan. Naturally, the plants turn to face the grow light. This is done over and over until one day only the fan is turned on. The plants continue to turn in that direction with only the stimulus of the fan, no light. They have a memory of the light coming after the fan. They don’t have ears, but they can hear. They don’t have a brain, but they can remember. There is more than one way to perceive the Universe than just through the human mind.
Personally, I don’t need to prove it; I already know that plants are creatures just as I am. If you don’t know it, that’s okay. Your perspectives are your choice. Whatever thoughts you choose are chosen by other thoughts. You have no idea where any of your thoughts come from. They rise from a dark and mysterious space. They come into your mind and say things. Maybe you believe them, maybe you don’t, but who is the one doing the believing or disbelieving? Just more thoughts. Your mind will say untrue things. How can you believe every thought? You are just guessing at which ones are true. If you listen close enough, your thoughts will contradict one another. You don’t have to believe anything. Reality is stranger than any scientist could handle. The Universe is infinite and weird. We are deep inside a dream, far inside. As you exist, breathe deep and appreciate the wondrous world around you, all the while feeling your existence. Do not shy away from the awareness within your own body. It is a constant place for you to come back to whenever things get crazy. You can always find the center if you let everything go for a moment and feel your actual center. Don’t think about it; just feel what’s deep in there. Then look out: You can walk around knowing that there is a presence inside you. A presence that is strong and unwavering. Once you find this presence inside your body, you can always find it again, whenever you remember. It’s there; if your mind would stop talking, you could notice it.
Looking at that plantain on that night in Boston without any thoughts, names, or opinions is how I was able to really see it. We all have the ability to breathe deep and be quiet. Just be quiet and listen. Plants are created by soil, sunlight, and water. Nobody really knows what those things are. They are ancient forces beyond the scope of thoughts in your human language. Plants eat sunlight and stretch themselves toward the stars. They are here because creation wants them here. They have their own ways of expressing life, of communicating with creation. Listening to plants will enliven your senses. It requires patience, silence, and openness.
Scientific studies have shown that plants respond to being talked to. For those of us who already talk to plants, we don’t need to see the studies. That is for the doubting mind. Doubts are choices, as all of our thoughts are. Faith in the presence of life force everywhere in everything is all I need. I can see that plants are feeling life. I know some of you can, too. Our society is ruled by the cynical mind, but you don’t have to be. You can choose to believe that creation is more than what you know. The Universe is filled with exploding stars and ancient rain forests. Our view is limited, as we peer out from two eyes at such an ancient vast mystery.
I believe that rocks, stars, planets, plants, water, animals, and myself are all filled with the power of creation. We are of the infinite and always will be. It is not that humans are conscious and nothing else is. There are no lines to draw, separating this from life and that from death. We see trees growing out of rotting logs filled with fungal threads, or mycelia. You don’t know how to speak to most life-forms in the Universe. It is not because they are not alive; it’s because you don’t know everyone’s language.
Plants have lived for millions of years without people. What do you think they were doing that whole time—waiting for us so they could be used? They are here and always have been because they are an expression of creation. They are composed of living cells.
It takes an extremely egocentric view to believe that all the creative intelligence of the Universe is held only in human brains. Yet that is the view of our culture. It is considered absurd to believe that stones, stars, plants, and animals have as much sentience as we do. Just because life is experienced differently in different forms does not make it any less real. We have access to five senses. How many others do we not know of? What do spiders perceive? What do stars feel as they burn in deep space? These are not questions our minds can answer because they lie outside our minds. The Universe is more vast and complex than any scientist can show in an experiment.
Finding Mother Trees
Being able to identify trees is as useful to me as reading. I can identify species with a glance at bark or silhouettes while driving down the road. It may sound hard to do if you’re just beginning to learn identification. The truth is, learning to read is also hard to do—just ask any five-year-old. If you practice and are patient, though, identifying plants will become as easy as reading.
It doesn’t take a formal education to notice that this crab apple has exceptional qualities. I cannot imagine passing by a tree like this and not collecting seeds or cuttings.
Once you can identify trees, they will reveal themselves to you everywhere. I find outstanding individual trees behind office parks, along highways, in yards—just about anywhere.
It has become an ingrained habit for me to look at trees everywhere I go. I can map out areas for many miles from my house based on tree species. If I want to collect a type of seed, I know where I can check for it in several locations because I have been paying attention for years. I have so many special spots all over the state.
I used to think that special trees worthy of being a named variety were extremely rare. I now think I could find some anywhere I lived in the world that has trees. Keep your eyes open, pay attention, learn to identify trees, and you will find treasures.
About eight years ago I noticed some ducks and geese hanging out under a mulberry tree on the side of the road. I stopped the car. That is part of the key: You have to be willing to stop and look at things up close. When I got out of the car, I was blown away by the beauty of this tree. It had a perfect form with thousands of branches covered in berries of various stages of ripeness. The ripest were jet black, their flavor unsurpassed by any berry I had tasted. This tree is one in a million; I’ve revisited it at least a hundred times. It bears fruit every year, with the first berries ripening in June. There is a steady supply of ripening fruit every day until the beginning of fall. I named this tree the Everloving Mulberry. It was just growing wild on the side of the road. There are many more special trees dotting the landscape. Most will never be discovered by a population that has become illiterate of the natural world. How can we find these treasures if we can’t even identify trees? Who will find the next amazing apple or the next shagbark hickory with golf-ball-sized nuts? It will be the people who are looking around everywhere with rapt attention to the abundant and varied plant world that surrounds us.
Learning to Identify Trees
This is an invaluable skill, both economically and for personal enjoyment. The actual learning takes patience and practice, but it gets much easier the more you work at it. In the beginning everything will look similar. As time goes on your eyes become trained to nuances that slowly turn into brightly lit signs. I remember struggling to tell the difference between Norway maple and sugar maple—they looked so much alike. I kept working on them, looking at them every chance I got. Today I can differentiate Norway and sugar maple with a glance any time of year, any part of the tree. The differences are huge, and the two trees about as easy to tell apart as a pickup truck and a car. My eyes became trained. It happened by looking and looking again. The following paragraphs are the techniques I used to teach myself how to identify trees.
Drawing
You don’t have to be any kind of artist. Choose a leaf or twig with buds to sketch. Don’t just look at it and copy it. What you want to do is stare at the leaf or twig for a minute or so and then set it down. Draw from memory. You will quickly find the gaps in your memory. Look at the leaf again and repeat the process. You can do this as many times as you like. It does not matter if you can identify it or not. What counts is that its details become familiar to you. Once it is familiar and you know it, sooner or later you will come across it in a book and it will jump out at you. You will know it very well after that and never forget it.
Twig/Leaf Board
I’ve made lots of these and they can be quite beautiful. Take a piece of cardboard or poster board. Attach winter twigs or pressed leaves of different species. When they are next to each other, it’s amazing how their differences will stand out. You can write the names under the twigs when you figure out what they are. I used to hang these boards in front of my toilet so that I often had a chance to study twigs.
Books
A good field guide is essential. It should be one that you enjoy looking at. Some will have pictures and some illustrations. Make sure that you like the feel of the book. You want to flip through the book all the time—on the toilet, in line at the store, whenever you think of it. It’s nice if it fits in a back pocket. Flip through the book often enough so that when you see something in the wild, you might think, I remember that from the book, and then go find it in there. Tree ID books I personally love are the Golden Guide to Trees of North America and every book by William Harlow.
Learning Barks
Identifying trees by bark is the most difficult method, but incredibly useful. When walking through a forest, it’s almost impossible to see the leaves or buds on many trees. When you can identify bark, though, you can walk through a woodlot and recognize what is going on without looking like a tourist staring at skyscrapers. The way I learned barks is by first learning twigs and leaves. When I identified a leaf, such as red oak, I would then look at the bark—every time. Red oak leaf or twig, look at the bark. Touch the bark. If you recognize a tree, look at the bark. Doing this enough times will imprint the bark’s patterns in your mind. Over time, barks will look very distinct from one another and it will be easy to tell them apart.
Tree barks change dramatically with age and from one individual to the next. There are many variations within each species. Through repetition, you will create familiarity, and before you know it you will recognize every trunk in the woods.
The texture of barks varies greatly. It’s important to rub your hand across the trunk. Rubbing your hand over a red maple trunk and then a sugar maple trunk are very different experiences. Try it.
Being able to recognize trees by their bark, twigs, leaves, or silhouettes is like having a superpower. You will be able to read stories in the landscape. You will find treasures. You can even make a lot of money if that’s what you want to do. I’ve made tens of thousands of dollars by being able to identify trees. I have collected uncountable amounts of fruit, nuts, and seeds that have become the backbone of my business. If I travel through an area, I almost always find something to gather because I can read the signs. Imagine if you were trying to find a street in a city but could not read any signs. That’s what it’s like for people walking through neighborhoods and forests who can’t identify trees. Educate yourself. It’s a shame that we weren’t taught this skill in school, but there’s nothing to do about it except change it. Learning to identify trees is not nearly as hard as many other skills. There really aren’t that many species to learn in any given bioregion. Learning a dozen trees will get you well on your way.
The twigs of different tree species are very distinct when looked at closely. Here is shagbark hickory on the left and American beech on the right.
Breeding
If we collect seeds and grow them out, we are participating in the evolution of a plant. We are breeding through any act of growing seeds. We can do this unconsciously by collecting whatever seeds we can reach from any old tree. Consciously, we can steer progression by collecting from specific mother trees, and we can take it a step further by collecting from specific father and mother trees.
Universities conduct most of the formal plant breeding programs today, but that was not always the case and it certainly doesn’t need to be today. People who interact with plants are the most qualified breeders. Regular growers can identify plants with exceptional qualities and collect their seed. It really is as simple as that.
It is absolutely true that trees will not come true from seed. That is, each seedling will be different from its parent, just like your kids will be different from you. Some traits will be carried through to the next generation. If two people with red hair have a kid, there’s a better chance the kid will have red hair than if one of the parents has black hair. If you’re selecting seed from trees with straight, vigorous timber form, there’s a good chance the kids will also exhibit that. It’s harder for fruit flavor to come through generations, but it does happen.
If you are finding special trees in the wild or in your plantings, it is completely within your ability to grow seeds out. You don’t need to rely on institutions to do this work. Many of the best varieties of plants discovered were grown by regular folks.
The more seedlings you grow out, the better your chances of finding exceptional performers. You can plant trees densely to find these special “genius” trees. You can take this to many levels. For example, a 4-by-20-foot bed can fit thousands of apple seedlings in it. During their first year, they can be sprayed with fireblight (a bacterial disease) and you’ll be left with all the resistant ones. Another, less intensive example would be to plant chestnut trees 6 feet apart instead of the standard 40 feet. Over time the disease-resistant best producers will reveal themselves. You don’t have to understand cross-pollination or have a degree to breed plants. All that is needed is to plant a lot (starting with good parents) and then identify the best offspring.
This is how breeding has happened for thousands of years. It is how people developed virtually all the domesticated crops we eat today. Modern agronomists still cannot duplicate the work that indigenous people performed to transform the wild grass known as teosinte into our modern, domesticated corn. One of the greatest plant breeders of all time was Luther Burbank, a man with no formal education, who developed more plant varieties than any institution. He developed the russet potato along with 800 other varieties of fruits, nuts, and vegetables. Another grower/breeder, Ephraim Bull, discovered Concord grapes by planting out 20,000 grape seedlings.
Plant a lot of seedlings and you, too, will find some special ones.
Controlled crosses involve bagging flowers just before bloom and hand-pollinating them with pollen from selected plants. Seed from these fruits are then grown out. It’s a step above just collecting seeds from a good mother plant. In controlled cross-pollination, you are selecting the mother and father plants.
Hybridizing
Hybrids occur naturally in nature. Oaks regularly hybridize in the wild, as do hickories, butternuts, apples, and many other trees profiled in this book. A hybrid is where pollination occurs between two distinct species. The resulting offspring is a hybrid. I only mention this because many people immediately associate hybrids with something highly unnatural. Hybrid trees are nothing like genetically engineered plants. They are merely created by mixing the pollen of one species with another. Generally, hybrids only occur within a genus. For example, bitternut hickory could be crossed with shagbark hickory, but it’s not possible to cross bitternut hickory with apple using traditional breeding techniques.
Before I explain the benefits of hybrids, it’s important to understand where different species may have come from. Let’s take chestnuts, for example. There are several species of chestnut found around the world. There are American chestnuts (Castanea dentata), European chestnuts (C. sativa), Japanese chestnuts (C. crenata), Chinese chestnuts (C. mollissima), and many others. All of these trees have been isolated from one another for many thousands of years. They have developed their own adaptations to their respective environments. At the same time they all have a lot in common. All the chestnut species make a chestnut—a very specific seed. How did all these different species make the same kind of nut growing isolated from one another? The answer is obvious to me: They all came from the same place.
The entire Castanea genus shares a common origin. I find it hard to believe that each species of chestnut sprang up on its own. I know the world is mysterious, but this seems a little too unlikely for me. An ancient chestnut species spread in different directions. Over time they became isolated from one another through the formation of mountain ranges, glaciers, and continental drift. Each species moved on to its own specific habitat and learned different adaptations.
Today diseases and insects are spread around the world at an accelerated rate. All of the different locations that individual species adapted to have changed. The world is not static. One place never remains the same. Species either adapt or vanish. Chestnut trees have learned a lot about different bugs, fungi, viruses, and climate extremes. Their knowledge is scattered among individual species around the world, from Maine to Japan. We can bring this knowledge together by bringing chestnuts back to one another. The trees readily hybridize if they are planted near each other. Chestnuts all started out together from one center of origin. We have the opportunity to bring them back together so they can share the best traits and adapt to a rapidly changing world.
Japanese chestnuts have excellent resistance to chestnut blight; American chestnuts are extremely cold-hardy. By allowing the pollen of one tree to find the pollen of another, we can find trees that possess both of these qualities. The American chestnut would not need to adapt to the blight if it were not for globalization. The best hope for chestnuts is for them to come back together after their diaspora. We are the way for them to find one another’s knowledge.
I believe it is my job to partner with chestnut trees. I offer them steps forward in evolution by bringing them together. If you are a native-plant fanatic, then you probably don’t agree with this approach. It’s important to remember that native plants are native to a place, but places change. Soils, climate, insects, animals all change. If we deny trees the ability to change as fast as the world’s climate does, it leaves them with less chance of surviving this volatile period of Earth’s history. We are facing a period of major species extinction. But we can give species the best chance they have using their own tools of cross-pollination. Let them share with one another what they have learned as they lived in different parts of the world. The world is coming together, so there is no reason to leave the trees out of this conglomeration of knowledge.
The time for reunion is here. I believe hybrids are the way forward in a world demanding rapid adaptation.
Money Grows on Trees
Contrary to the popular saying, money does grow on trees. It simply needs to be converted, like exchanging different currencies when you cross an international border. There is value just falling on the ground. I have made around $100 an hour collecting wild pears. That’s pretty good money even for someone with a degree and a suit, but I have made even more than that by realizing that money grows on trees. There have been times I have been able to collect thousands of dollars’ worth of seeds in a day. I see grafted mulberry trees growing on my farm; each foot of each branch is worth $5. I know that money grows on trees. Money just means value; it means one thing is worth another in a barter. If you need money and you get it from trees, you will have a whole new appreciation for the abundance that rains down from their canopies.
I have tied my livelihood to trees. I completely rely on them to pay the bills. This may sound risky to some, but I believe it is very safe. Not that there is one tree I would really bet everything on; instead, I have a diversified portfolio. Instead of investing in McDonald’s and ExxonMobil or Lockheed Martin, I am invested in chestnut, hazel, persimmon, mulberry, apple, pear, and 50 other species. At least a few of them will have a phenomenal return each year. My investment costs are low or nonexistent, and the returns are over a hundredfold and ever increasing. I also feel great about what I am invested in. No one has to be killed, no river poisoned, no rain forest cut down for my investments to pay me big returns.
When we make money from trees, we are literally invested in them. You can’t help but care a little more about what happens to trees when your livelihood is tied to them. I have heard from lots of people that they hate their jobs or they don’t believe in the mission of the company they work for. There is always a way out, always other options. Trees offer alternative forms of income to creative, hardworking folks. Some people are in tough situations; they work multiple jobs and take care of small children. Working with trees on the side can provide extra income. A lot of the work I do with trees happens while I am taking care of my three young kids. Everyone’s situation is different, but there is an astounding array of options for gathering money from outstretched branches in every city and rural area.
I have included a section on the commercial possibilities of each tree in this book for those looking to supplement or replace their current stream of income.