Post #2 -- Methuselah

Methuselah

In the book of Genesis we learn that the oldest human lived for 969 years.  The Bible calls him Methuselah.

That’s a long time but as it happens there’s another Methuselah that makes 969 years seem like just yesterday.  This Methuselah lives high in the mountains of California and it is one of the oldest living organisms on planet earth at 4,849 years.  Its proper name is a bristlecone pine tree.

Nature has the habit of humbling us human beings and when it comes to size and age, trees are especially good at it.

The giant redwoods can live for 2000 years; sequoias can reach 3000; hemlocks 800 years and the beech tree 300; maple trees can live more than 200 and the pine and white spruce of Alberta’s parkland region can live for more than 100 years.

In a recent article in the Nature Conservancy of Canada’s newsletter, Mark Stabb (central Ontario Director for NCC) was quoted:

            “Big trees kinda put you in your place and time; your place on the planet, and remind us of how short a time we have compared to those big, old trees.”  His advice is to “respect your elders.  Say hello to old-timer trees in the forest and think of the stories they might tell.”

Other cultures around the world call these old trees Mother or Grandmother.  For centuries these cultures have known what our modern science is just now discovering – that trees really do communicate with each other and their surroundings.  Like all good mothers and kindly grandmothers they ask familiar questions like ‘How are you?’ or ‘Do you need help?’

Suzanne Simard (Professor of Forest Ecology at the University of British Columbia, Vancouver) claims that the oldest trees are the most highly connected to their surroundings and that in times of stress they send out lots of resources to seedlings, increasing their resilience.

She calls these resources wisdom.

It seems logical to think that if our desire is to have longer, healthier lives we might start by spending more time with trees.  Science is starting to prove that this is true. 

So, hug a tree or two, swap a story and maybe some of the old-timers’ wisdom will rub off on you.

Richard