The name "National Geographic" appears right on the cover of this book, so I admit I began reading with certain expectations of a scientific analysis of natural phenomena. And while reading, I kept looking back at the cover, thinking "National Geographic endorsed this? They put their name . . . on this?"
This book might have been better as a work of fiction, or perhaps the author could have penned a volume of poetry extolling the virtues of nature. But as it is, I don't think it works very well. For one thing, it's way too religious. I'm not sure exactly what religion is being expressed—certainly there is no mention of God or of faith—but it's definitely driving at some specific set of beliefs. I was expecting to learn about trees, and instead, I was treated to a sort of New Age-y celebration of what I can only describe as a higher consciousness that results from communing with nature. I'm paraphrasing here, but the idea was that if one spends enough time in nature and feels emotions deeply enough, one can actually literally hear the trees "breathe." I had been curious about the scientific phenomenon wherein trees purify the air and release oxygen. What did I learn? I learned trees have lungs. (Wait, something's not right, here.)
Is there actual science here? Yes, some, but after the fashion of many religious texts, it is buried under a layer of sermons. It's so nice of this author, who has never met me, to tell me (directly, and in the second person) exactly what is wrong with me, and why I need to repent. So much is wrong with this, but for starters, I would suggest that probably most people who pick up this book already care about plants and about nature. To use a religious expression, she's preaching to the choir. Or brow-beating, in this case. And then there's this little gem: "Do you purchase food made with palm oil, from trees grown on plantations where rainforests once stood? Do you eat beef from farmed cattle, a global industry tearing away at the Amazon? Are you choosing rainforest wood for building: mahogany, rosewood, ebony, teak? Rethink such choices . . ." Well, I've rethought ONE choice. DNF at 49%.