Brave swallows



“One swallow does not a summer make, nor one fine day; similarly one day or brief time of happiness does not make a person entirely happy.” Aristotle

I’ve just returned from a short stay on the Channel Islands. We made our sea crossing in a fast catamaran ferry which departed from a distinctly sunny St Helier to a particularly cloudy Weymouth. About mid-journey, mid April, as I leaned on the portside railings to brace myself from high winds, I noticed we had just passed a small sailing yacht also bearing north, bobbing in and out of a medium swell. Just above the inky water, between the two moving vessels, I glimpsed a pair of small dark birds, wing tip to wing tip, flying faster than the yacht and slower than the ferry.

Their flight style, recorded deep in my childish memories of common land and sweet hay meadows, gave their instance away as “barn swallows”, regardless of the unfamiliar backdrop. They were perhaps a little seasonally late in their Northward ventures over crested waves.Their usual glossy feathers were dulled, I imagined, by red Saharan dust.


Here were two seemingly fragile passerines determined to cross yet another vast stretch of water, with tiny beating hearts and a heritable timing for their arrival somewhere on British terra firma to nest. I was mesmerized, so happy, but my failing eyesight tracked them for only a minute before losing them as we ploughed on towards Portland rock. I’m unsure anyone else on deck noticed them. Maybe the crew on the bridge.

Migration of whichever species, horizontally, vertically, all around Spaceship Earth, fills me with Carson’s “sense of wonder” and beyond, with empathy and concern for our fellow time travelers . Two little birds out at sea and a massive volume of life all around the planet making tracks.

I noticed the catamaran was throwing up sea spray, which the wind spun into webs by the ton, drifting across the swallows’ path. One of the many unexpected hazards they face. I hoped they coped.

Hope as the plasticity of the mind, the flip side of fear, is all I have.

Much later, by the time I reached home in the Welsh Borders, a few Southern African swallows had already completed their Spring journey; a stunning feat in all manner of ways. They swooped and dived, I do believe, in a “sense of wonder”. Brave swallows, with the hearts of lions.

BTO Spring Migration

Trees: do they have will?

I have been considering the self determination of trees of late, pulling on a few biocentric threads.

Self determination in humans is looked upon generally as a good thing. Food, warmth, nourishment, medicines; just some of the most basic of our needs but for the sake of this exploration, I’ll assume we in the West are guaranteed them. A wishful assumption.
If we in the UK generally want something more in life, and have a will to achieve it, like a secure job or a relationship, a house and children, our neoliberal society encourages us to pursue, especially if success is financial. Eudaimonic ‘incentives’ are laid in front of us, like opportunities for qualifications (setting aside the noble idea of education for its own sake), grant aid for business start-ups, bank loans and additional training. We just have to be motivated enough to make use of them, no? Whenever we are knocked down, we’re encouraged to stand up, brush ourselves off and carry on. Again, we are rewarded by re-enforcement; gongs, grants, tax breaks. We are also at liberty to legally reward ourselves, of course, with City Breaks, the new sofa, a new car. Mostly these rewards are material things (some of them at the expense of trees), and failure is still largely perceived as a socially unacceptable outcome. By turning these opportunities down for whatever reason, and rejecting the conformity of aspiration, one might even be perceived as lazy or odd.

Of course, there are other wants in life that aren’t financial, perhaps of higher moral worth. But I’ve emphasized material gains simply as we are living in an era of high consumption. Inter-species disturbance may well be the catalyst for biological change and diversity, but we humans, in our consumption demands, are still so dominant in the landscape that biological diversity is in decline.
To return to trees, do they have wants and a will to succeed beyond simple needs? Given adequate life support, a lone tree can be grown from a fertilized seed in a laboratory under synthetic conditions. We can offer the tree what it needs to exist, as we can offer a brain dead patient. Whether it flourishes to a natural end is another matter. Trees reproducing and existing in nature, in landscape and sunlight, rely on symbiosis; partnerships with microorganisms to supply the nutrients for growth using different bacteria and yeast to succeed, moreover, to flourish.

Unsurprisingly, I can’t make any assumption, not even wishful, that all trees in the UK are guaranteed even the most basic of their needs mainly because of direct and indirect consequences of human action, but recognize there are a good number of humans who do, at least, care.

Do trees want for more, beyond survival? We can assume they do not wish for a decent annual income or an education for their children but I think, innately, all species want to ‘succeed’. In the case of trees, this may require them to create community, collectives of many life forms and species, not just to survive but to thrive, reproduce and live a long and enduring life. Incentives may not be relevant, no city breaks, but ‘good’ soils, carbon dioxide, oxygen to roots in varying degrees, unpolluted water and the unrestricted ability to photosynthesize, respire and transpire. These are commonalities required by trees to exist in a more resilient, natural state, therefore, to flourish and reproduce via pollination and seed distribution, to be self determining. Trees lock in carbon and other elements as they grow, and then release via degeneration. Trees shed limbs, needles, leaves. If humans do not remove them, these become part of the cycles of life, in decomposition, regeneration and the perpetuation of healthy, living soils and therefore resilience to biological attack.

Of course trees need ‘place’. The size of woodland may once have been limited by climate, hydrology, altitude, coast and so on. High rates of human intervention have accelerated these factors (even altitude if you consider mountaintop mining), and imposed the development of farmland, utility forestry, transport infrastructure and urbanity. Resulting fragmentation, island bio-geography and edge effects change the very nature of living woodland community, and consequently what it is to be a tree. Mono-cultured stands are more vulnerable to pest and disease, without further human interventions like spraying pesticides and herbicides, although not exclusively. Indigenous trees in collectives may also offer some protection from windfall, fire and climatic change, and in the past with pre-industrial mammalian destruction. We see many lone trees around cities, fields and hedgerows of course, planted or selected for our utilitarian needs, at least with access to some of the most basic essential life support, whether or not they flourish. They may be less likely to reproduce naturally, however. A sociable tree may be the healthiest tree.

Many humans, I think, are aware of at least some of the needs of individual trees. Further, if a familiar tree should die, we may grieve for a short while, but only for its passing from the landscape of our own lives, not necessarily for its own sake. Some may consider trees are not conscious, they feel no pain. They are natural architecture, landmarks in our minds, but sacrificial for our utility. Can we be absolutely sure they are nothing more than living structure?

Everyday, scientists solve more puzzles. For instance, trees may not feel pain as we do, using a central nervous system like ours, but are able to sense vibration, oncoming rain and gravitational orientation. We didn’t know these things a hundred years ago. Many questions remain unanswered. A fertilized seed will sprout given basic prerequisites and seek to root. There are signs that trees have a will to self-heal, recover, regenerate and adapt to a changing environment. Research in hormones, i.e. jasmonates, are key to signalling morphological changes in plant cells, such as dwarfism, and through natural selection, like species spinescence, in response to environmental conditions or ‘stressors.’ A tree can generate new limbs, should others fail. New life can even spring from a fallen tree crown, phoenix generation could be the ultimate evidence of ‘will.’

So, to me, trees do have a will to survive, reproduce, moreover to flourish. Grub out a forest, stop burning heathland, knock down a building and watch the regeneration in action. To me, primary and secondary succession are all pointers to a will for life. Aren’t there recognizable similarities here between the will of a pioneer tree and the will of a person?

To lead a full life, to flourish and reproduce, are just a few of the basic things we humans value about life. You could say we are genetically coded and socially primed to do so. One could say the same of trees.

I would not yet call for the rights of trees as persons. We too are nature, and have needs to survive and reproduce, moreover to flourish and this may involve killing trees before they live a long and productive life. However, just because trees cannot run away from a wielded axe, we shouldn’t treat them simply as disposable assets for excessive luxury, or woodlands as dispensable in the face of economic downturn. Trees of course are beneficial to humans as they are to many other species, and some benefits will be reciprocal. They are self determining living species. We need to remember this in our individual and collective relationship with them and in our decision making or utility of them.

For more on habitat fragmentation, please see Trees For Life… Image


“Soon the child’s clear eye is clouded over by ideas and opinions, preconceptions, and abstractions. Simple free being becomes encrusted with the burdensome armor of the ego. Not until years later does an instinct come that a vital sense of mystery has been withdrawn. The sun glints through the pines and the heart is pierced in a moment of beauty and strange pain, like a memory of paradise. After that day, we become seekers.”
― Peter Matthiessen