The trees around us – some we may walk past every day – tell a story. The mallee box by the twelfth hole of North Adelaide Golf Course evokes a time when Adelaide was clothed in mallee scrub and desert senna. Brisbane’ s remnant blue gum, growing by the botanic gardens, indicates a time when the city was once jungle. The river red gums of Melbourne bear the scars of Aboriginal craftmanship. Mangroves, Leichhardt trees, acacias, eucalypts, foxtails … together, they inspire a narrative that jumps from Burke and Wills to sugar slaves, Empress Josephine to Johnny Flinders. Eucalypts reveal lost cultures and lost children. Cabbage palms tell of incomparable migrations. In the spirit of Bob Gilbert’ s Ghost Trees and Don Watson’ s The Bush, this book explores how our trees hold our history and reveal it to us.
A deeply researched series of portraits of a selection of Australian trees. If, like me, you’re a mad tree lover, this book is for you. I found myself taking notes of trees I wanted to visit around Australia, and it will be a book I will return to as a research reference in my own work, I feel. An excellent read.
An interesting and gentle look at the trees that occupy this land. The history seen, the struggles to survive and always asking the reader to perhaps for the first time look inwards and consider these trees as fellow survivors on this earth
A book about Australian trees, trees I have grown up with and are part of what makes home feel like home. Despite their status as weeds elsewhere, eucalyptus always brought a sense of familiarity. I have noticed that trees provide me with an emotional connection with the past before now, remembering iconic trees from my childhood which reminded me of special times or places: the magnolia at the bottom of my grandparent’s garden; the jacaranda I used to climb at home during primary school; the liquidambar which provided the ammunition to fling from the roof with my next door neighbour at my younger sister; the mulberry tree that was a source of cool and solitude during hot Sydney summer holidays. Notably, none of these native to Australia. So, it was with some sense of discomfort that I needed to read about Australian trees by someone who migrated here as an adult, something he notes as perhaps the result of strangeness (with those of us who have grown up here too familiar to notice the specialness of our surroundings). Many of the trees mentioned, are I now realise, are part of my life. The Norfolk Pine which accompanied beach holidays and summer fish and chips; the Wollemi Pine dinosaur tree I have more recently acquired since its discovery and the many, many eucalyptus which I don’t even know the names of despite their ubiquitous presence wherever in Australia, and elsewhere, I’ve lived. I also noted tree that were missing from the book that I’ve lived with – the Macadamia and its wickedly hard shells, grevillea, banksia and bottlebrush/melaleuca with their colourful flowers and often more colourful birds. The stories told are consistently personal, both of the author’s sojourn in Australia, the value of the trees to indigenous Australians all woven in with the biological story of the trees themselves. So, it seems to be with trees: the connection of many Biblical events and people is associated with trees from the infamous trees of life and good/evil and beyond, they are amongst the most referenced things. I suspect these instances are not isolated and that human connection with trees is something intrinsic to our species. Yet, cities, busy lives and logging close our eyes, and our minds, to the trees which mean more to our existence than the oxygen or fruit they might supply. Books such as this one are a welcome reminder to look after them and let them look after us.
While I found parts of this book hard to slog my way through, as a layperson who knows not very much at all about trees, I did find this at the end a very charming read. The author intersperses personal stories with tales of others who had personal connections with treesn historically and more recently.
I appreciate the respect for these towering ancestors who have stood for so long, but are powerless to the demands of, first the colonisation of the country, and now the unforgiving needs of our modern society.
This made me nostalgic for trees I’ve never seen and want to pack up my bags to visit these forests and individuals across the country. Highly relatable as a fellow immigrant to Australia who has sought out botany for cultural and ecological grounding in this new land. Good nuggets of historical horticultural interest
This was a fascinating take on Australian history. I felt the premise was well executed and it was clearly well-researched. I would have loved to see more First Nations history and something about the Huon pine but overall an enjoyable read.
What a fucking delight. I miss Mackay and I never did stand under the Leichhardt Tree which I told April I was going to do when I got there. That was over a year ago now. My heart is in the tropical north.
I found this perspective on trees fascinating. I enjoyed every section - some more than others. This will be a book I will dip back into again and again. 4.5 ⭐️
This is, in many respects, both an enjoyable and an informative book. 17 concise essays lead the reader on an arboreal journey through diverse Australian landscapes with a focus on Aboriginal environmental knowledge at the forefront of the text. From Tasmania to Wadjemup (Rottnest Island), the Blue Mountains (Wollemi Pines) to the Pillaga Forest, there is much to observe and to cherish. For the author, Dave Witty, his experiences in nature are transformative - he offers a biography of trees and of self. Sometime I could have done without so many references to Proust or to his somewhat breathless prose tendencies. But the grandeur of the subject kept me travelling through river red gums, acacias and mangroves, confident each essay would deliver new knowledge and a sense of deepened appreciation for the beauty and longevity of our shared environment.