It's 1916 and Second Lieutenant Tolkien is travelling through a dense forest in disputed territory between France and German during World War 1. It's night time and Tolkien and his fellow soldiers are lost in this ancient old growth forest. It is almost pitch black. Eyes are wide and tensions are high. Not only are they awestruck by the biggest trees they have ever seen, they can hear lots of movement surrounding them.

One of my favourite bits to do on my Forest Walks begins by first asking participants what the tallest tree in the world is. Usually people are quick to answer that it is Redwoods in California. Some can even give the name of the tallest tree in the world: Hyperion.

Every once and awhile I try and do some ‘big tree’ hunting in British Columbia. I’ve discovered something a bit distressing when I do find these big trees. Almost always there is an English Holly (ilex aquifolium) growing somewhere near the Big Tree. It doesn’t matter how deep or untouched the forest is. If there is a known big tree that people hike out to see, then there will a Holly there.

In the opening of his popular 2015 book, The Hidden Life of Trees, Peter Wohlleben describes coming across what he thought was a moss covered stone in a forest, only to discover after removing the moss that it was actually tree bark. I’ll let Wohlleben describe what happens next

Fall 2025 has proven to be a lucky season so far as we are in midst of the still unexplained ecological phenomena of an Oak Mast Year. Somehow Oak trees across the North Hemisphere have all collectively decided to produce an above-average, large amount of acorns this year.

Imagine walking into your favorite local forest one day only to discover that it was now just a massive pile of dirt. Thanks to a nearby construction spot, an incredible amount of dirt had been dumped: Ten feet high and taking up the area of a soccer field. Trees encased and surrounded. No way they will survive. Can the forest regrow and adapt? Will new trees grow on the graveyard of old trees?

About a month ago I was browsing the shelves of Woodward Library – UBC’s Science and Forestry Library – and stumbled across a book published in 1942 that sent me down a research rabbit hole about a native common tree in Pacific Spirit Park.

Stanley Park’s giant Hollow Tree used to be a world-famous landmark. Tourists and locals engaged in increasingly ridiculous behaviors of seeing just how much could fit inside of it. Many tourists and locals had a photo of them inside the tree…while inside a car. In a moment that captures that sense of wonder, remnants of mystery, and, well the, hubris of the era, an elephant was once transported out to the tree for a photo opportunity.

In February 1920 the American Forestry Magazine ran the all-capital headline “DISCOVERY OF SUGAR ON DOUGLAS FIR”. The opening paragraphs of the article is worth reading for the pulsing excitement:

What is the oldest tree in Pacific Spirit Park (PSP)? We don’t know exact ages, but if you are looking for old trees, especially big old trees, you would find them on the cliff slope forests of Wreck Beach or in the Ecological Reserve along Sword Fern trail.

Let’s imagine a Tree from a Fantasy Novel written by an author like Ursula Le Guin or J.R.R. Tolkien. A Tree of legend and lore which characters regard with awe. The “Death Tree” let’s call it. The bark, wood, and leaves of this Tree cause a very painful death. It is used to poison domestic animals of landowners who ran their mouths a bit too much at the tavern.

Vancouver is the land of the giant evergreen tree. Our Douglas-firs, Hemlocks, and Cedars. They dominate our forest, towering over and casting such a deep shade that few plants can grow below. There is really only one deciduous tree species that can compete. This is our national tree, a Canadian icon, the Maple Tree.

Butternuts are a tree it’s hard not get obsessed with. Their famously rare, tasty, creamy, buttery nut. A nut that I’ve still yet to try, but (annoyingly) consistently read and hear people raving about. Even the Vikings, who were the first to cross the Atlantic Ocean to North America, seemed to love it.

Every late May the sky of Vancouver is full of swirling and dancing cotton seeds. They fly in through open windows, up noses, and cover the ground like snow. The source of these mischievous, poofy snowflakes is the towering Black Cottonwood (Populus balsamifera ssp. trichocarpa)

There’s a surreal, magical natural area in Vancouver’s Jericho Beach that deserves a thread. Cute bunnies that hop up and eat from your hand. Tame owls that will allow you get almost close enough to touch. Delicious Blackberries everywhere. Straight out of Disney Fairy Tale.

Let me pitch you a science fiction story idea: A young government scientist, working for a government forestry department, discovers evidence that trees are intelligent and self-aware beings. Her work grabs the attention of the public and media, but is ridiculed by fellow scientists and the forestry industry. As years go by, more and more studies come out that support her findings. Suddenly society as a whole is forced to grapple with the idea that plants might just be consci

When I first read about how Pacific Coastal Tribes made use of the Western Redcedar’s bark for clothing, it immediately conjured up the image of them walking around in an armoured suit made out of wood. Using wood for clothing seemed incredibly uncomfortable -think of the splinters!- but at the time I just let the irrationality of it go. Hey, it was hundreds of years ago right?

There is a wizened Catalpa in Vancouver’s Jericho Beach covered in “DO NOT CLIMB” signs. The tree was likely planted during the Catalpa Craze that swept North America in response to widespread fears of a “timber famine”.

About a few weeks ago I removed a small sapling of a European Sycamore Maple (Acer pseudoplatanus) from a forest near me in Jericho Beach, Vancouver. It’s considered an invasive, shade-tolerant tree in the park.

There’s one tree commonly planted in Vancouver’s smaller parks that still reminds me of home…. despite not actually being from my home. It’s the original Christmas Tree. The European Red Pine. Commonly known in Canada as the Scots Pine, Pinus sylvestris.