The biological history and cultural traditions that surround Earth’s most cherished trees put time in a rarely conceived perspective. Jared Farmer, who also wrote Trees in Paradise: The Botanical Conquest of California, thinks in long time. In Elderflora: A Modern History of Ancient Trees , his latest book, Farmer brings the reader into the long now, raising our gaze to a time horizon where we see trees, old trees especially, in deeper relation to our own existense. Of long-lived trees, Farmer writes, “They are hyperlocals, ultraterrestrials, and supermortals all at once … They allow a story in which time operates at multiple speeds at once—the speeds of geology, evolution, and history.”
Without directly anthropomorphizing trees, he forces us to imagine what it would be like to witness humanity’s progress, failings and hubris from their majestic view of our carryings on in what we call civilization. As barometers of our evolution and prospects for survival, ancient trees stand as the ultimate judges of humankind’s takeover of the planet, meting out justice with indifference to the short lived and everlasting upheavals.
Each chapter of Elderflora shifts between the micro (hyperlocal plants and their ecosystems), the meso (empires, states, nations, bioregions), and the macro (the biosphere). The first chapter introduces us to the antiquated practice of forest regicide, where the largest specimens, the forest royalty, being most coveted, are summarily cut down. It’s one of many examples in the book of our hubris being revealed through the lens of old growth flora. Of our species' need to get right with our habitat, Farmer writes, “With geological power comes epochal responsibility-the duty of long-term thinking. This is the problem of our time, a problem of time, even as attention spans get shorter and shorter.” And, “Climate change is time, changed. Short-term decisions made—or postponed—may linger for millennia. Throwaway choices, in the aggregate, may have permanent evolutionary consequences. Over million-year cycles, rocks will record modernity in technofossils, as well as fossil absences that mark extinctions.” Elderflora is a meditation on time.
While the book is dense with philosophical foreboding and somber millennia-scale rumination, it is also chock full of interesting scientific trivia and historical perspective. Here are just a few of the many tidbits: the science of dating trees via core samples enabled the calibration of radio carbon dating that now allows us to know the relative age of rocks and fossils; the oldest trees for many generations to come are alive today; the world’s oldest known tree is 4,700 years old, but the oldest tree root system could be well over 10,000 years old.
If you are an amateur botanist, occasional citizen scientist, or an aspiring interpretive naturalist, this homage to old trees will fascinate and challenge you. If you know someone who is not already humbled in the presence of old growth trees, get them to read this one book. Please.