{"id":58786,"date":"2025-07-16T11:48:33","date_gmt":"2025-07-16T15:48:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/?p=58786"},"modified":"2025-07-19T12:58:17","modified_gmt":"2025-07-19T16:58:17","slug":"the-kinship-with-trees-and-forests-how-to-cultivate-reciprocal-relationships-with-trees-and-forests","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/2025\/07\/16\/the-kinship-with-trees-and-forests-how-to-cultivate-reciprocal-relationships-with-trees-and-forests\/","title":{"rendered":"The Kinship with Trees and Forests: How to cultivate reciprocal relationships with trees and forests?"},"content":{"rendered":"

Authors in This Roundtable<\/h3>\n
Martina Artmann, Freising<\/a> I would like to use this roundtable to apologize to the ghost of the forest for harming the plants\u2014and to thank him for the mystical experience that shaped my values of kinship, respect, and care for the web of life.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Koki Atcheson, Honolulu<\/a> The engagement with this video product echoes the personal commitment involved in reciprocating with trees and forests.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Adrina C. Bardekjian, Toronto<\/a> Trees soften life, they give us peace \/
\nLike leafy chants that never cease.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Emilio Fantin, Milan<\/a> You can feel the vital force of the tree coming out from soil and, through seed, flowing along the trunk.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Flick Ferdinando, Brighton and Hove<\/a> What if trees had their own union? What if the forest floor held not just roots, but resolutions? What if the oak chaired a council of ancient wisdom? The birch, a mediator. The cedar, a warrior poet.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Heather L. McMillen, Honolulu<\/a> The engagement with this video product echoes the personal commitment involved in reciprocating with trees and forests.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Laura Nova, New York City<\/a> We observe that caring for trees also cares for us, in a reciprocal relationship.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Mary O\u2019Brien, San Francisco Bay Area<\/a> Maybe the question should be this: will the tree remember what we did in order to live in its presence, for as long as our<\/em> lives would allow?<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Mauricio Tolosa, Santa Catarina Island<\/a> Je suis les arbres. Not because I wish to become something else, but because I remember I\u2019ve always been part of them.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
Marjolein van der Loo, Maastricht<\/a>\u00a0To drink Linden tea is not just to soothe the nerves. It is to step into a lineage of listening. Of honoring. Of remembering. It is to take part, however briefly, in the linden tree\u2019s quiet campaign for memory.<\/span>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
Margherita Muriti<\/div>\n
\n

about the writer
\n Margherita Muriti<\/a>\n <\/h3>\n

Margherita Muriti is an Italian artist and professor based in Paris, France. Her multidisciplinary practice\u2014spanning photography, installation, video, sound, and textiles\u2014explores the materiality of images and sensory perceptions as a way to reimagine relationships with the other-than-human world and the landscape.<\/p>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

Introduction<\/h3>\n

In a time of ecological urgency, revitalizing our relationships with the other-than-human world has never been more vital. The Kinship Series <\/strong>roundtable brings together artists, scientists, biologists, activists, and thinkers from diverse fields to reflect on the unique ways human practices can reveal and nurture the intricate web of reciprocal relationships that shape our world. To speak of a tree, a river, or a landscape is also to speak of the network of beings\u2014human and other-than-human\u2014that makes, surrounds, and sustains it.<\/p>\n

Our human gestures, both personal and collective, hold the potential to uncover and deepen the relationships between beings. By widening our perception and attuning ourselves to the subtle languages that emerge from these interconnections, we open up new pathways of listening and responding to the living world.<\/p>\n

This process involves rekindling bonds through sensitive, creative, and situated acts\u2014gestures capable of fostering renewed attention, care, and presence. From these efforts, new alliances may arise, supporting and amplifying affinities between species and environments.<\/p>\n

Ultimately, the notion of kinship invites us to imagine long-term forms of interspecies coexistence\u2014futures grounded in reciprocity, solidarity, and mutual flourishing. These reflections call us to listen to the wisdom of the Earth and envision ways of living together that are collaborative, embodied, and deeply intertwined.<\/p>\n

As part of this series, the Kinship with Trees and Forests <\/em><\/strong>roundtable is an invitation to explore practices that cultivate reciprocal relationships with trees and forest ecosystems. Through gestures of care\u2014artistic, scientific, ritual\u2014we deepen our understanding of these living systems and nurture new ways of relating to them.<\/p>\n

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Photo: Carmen Bouyer<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Drawn from various corners of the world, the participants in this roundtable bring a rich diversity of perspectives, stories, and practices that celebrate trees as beings. Their personal and situated approaches offer unique ways of honoring trees, engaging with them not merely as symbols or resources, but as companions, teachers, and kin.<\/p>\n

Such practices invite a shift in perception: from seeing trees and forests as inanimate, isolated entities to embracing a porous, relational understanding of them\u2014as living beings shaped by, and inseparable from, the elements and other life forms with whom they co-create their environments. They call us to recognize trees as subjects entangled with us in shared relations.<\/p>\n

By exploring these correspondences\u2014between bodies, rhythms, and ecologies\u2014we expand our capacity to respond to the world we live with, and to the fragile continuities that sustain life. Empathy becomes a vital energy in the weaving of these interspecies relationships.<\/p>\n

As anthropologist Tim Ingold beautifully reminds us:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere does the tree end and the rest of the world begin? (…) Considering, too, that the character of this particular tree lies just as much in the way it responds to the currents of wind, in the swaying of its branches and the rustling of its leaves, we might wonder whether the tree can be anything other than a tree-in-the-air. Is the wind, then, not as intrinsic to the tree as its wood?\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Read The Kinship with Rivers<\/em> here<\/a>.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
Flick Ferdinando<\/div>\n
\n

about the writer
\n Flick Ferdinando<\/a>\n <\/h3>\n

With 35 years of experience as a circus performer, street artist, educator, and director, Flick bring a rich background in physical theatre, comedy, and landscape installations. Holding an MA in Arts and Ecology, her work explores biophilic experiences that connect communities with nature. As a solo artist and collaborator, she creates performances and installation that engage with climate-conscious creativity, often set in both rural and urban landscapes. She is a gardener and treeworker. Her deep commitment to the planet and its natural world shapes every project she undertakes.<\/p>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

Flick Ferdinando<\/h3>\n
What if trees had their own union? What if the forest floor held not just roots, but resolutions? What if the oak chaired a council of ancient wisdom? The birch, a mediator. The cedar, a warrior poet.<\/blockquote><\/figure>\n

The Tree Union<\/strong><\/p>\n

The people of Britain have a long and complex relationship with trees that runs deep. We revere them, celebrate them, and yet many cannot name them.<\/p>\n

I myself am from an era where the message to \u201cSave The Trees\u201d was loud and clear. Over centuries, the land had been decimated to build and construct houses, roads, and ships. The mighty Oak, synonymous with our very being of this island, was felled to build glorious vessels that gave free travel to claim and colonise other lands. Ships returned not only with wealth and resources but with non-native species, imported to line British gardens and estates. Trees arrived like trophies, and people too; both used to plant, build, and serve the wealthy land owners’ vision.<\/p>\n

This land lost out, became bereft of its soul. Its bold guardians.<\/p>\n

Years later, the message is still the same, and I find myself as an artist and a steward of trees. Also, a person who explores their being and relationship to ecological systems and someone who cuts them!<\/p>\n

It is a strange seat to occupy; reverence on one side, responsibility on the other. And yet, to sit in this place brings a broad perspective of the canopy of reciprocity. To prune a tree is not always to harm it. Sometimes, it is to give it breath, light, space to grow. The gesture is not one of violence but of care. A trimmed branch may give the tree more time on this earth and, in turn, give us the air we breathe.<\/p>\n

But not all actions stem from such care.<\/p>\n

At the end of last summer, I moved into a new place. Before the move, I went to the house to observe it from the outside, to make a guess of the land that I would be tending. I observed a well-established eucalyptus tree on the land, near the boundary of the property. I was looking forward to meeting this tree, often derided as non-native, but to me, a tree of great beauty. When I finally moved in, the tree was gone. Cut down to a stump.<\/p>\n

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Photo: Flick Ferdinando<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
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Photo: Flick Ferdinando<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Later, I discovered that the neighbour next door had it felled. They didn\u2019t want the shade in their garden. Their reasoning was simple. And yet their action cast a longer, darker shade over the quiet resilience of a living, breathing being.<\/p>\n

As humans, we have jobs, all sorts of jobs, many of those jobs draw us away from the trees, the names of trees a distant necessity. In those jobs, there are unions to make sure the hierarchy within the human realm is kept in check, to make sure those hard workers have a voice and can call upon the stewards of their work to help when in need.<\/p>\n

What if trees had their own union? What if the forest floor held not just roots, but resolutions? What if the oak chaired a council of ancient wisdom? The birch, a mediator. The cedar, a warrior poet.<\/p>\n

We know that trees communicate with each other underground through their mycelium network. So, what if the eucalyptus could have sent a message to call on their steward to help with this negotiation? Imagine the eucalyptus filing a grievance for wrongful dismissal.<\/p>\n

We forget the stories embedded in bark, the colour-enriched leaves. But what if we returned to a position of listening? What if we regarded trees not as a dressing for our gardens and streets but as co-workers in our shared task of planetary survival?<\/p>\n

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Photo: Flick Ferdinando<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
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Photo: Flick Ferdinando<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
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Photo: Flick Ferdinando<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
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Photo: Flick Ferdinando<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

We should continue to hold a sacred agreement of give and take. We are deeply connected to trees for the survival of our current climate narrative. In my role as artist and tree steward, I hope to honour that agreement. When I cut, I try to cut with care, and, in this instance, with this work, I lay down some words that might give voice to the dear eucalyptus. Cut into the very eucalyptus that the neighbours shady behaviour brought to a swift end.<\/p>\n

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Turmeric being used as a natural paint. Photo: Flick Ferdinando<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
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Photo: Flick Ferdinando<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

If the eucalyptus had had a union, maybe it would still be standing. Maybe it would have spoken, and maybe, just maybe, we would have listened.<\/p>\n

www.flickferdinando.com<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>

\n
\n
Martina Artmann<\/div>\n
\n

about the writer
\n Martina Artmann<\/a>\n <\/h3>\n

Martina Artmann is a professor at the Weihenstephan-Triesdorf University of Applied Sciences and leads the Leibniz Junior Research Group URBNANCE (Urban Human-Nature Resonance for Sustainability Transformation) at the Leibniz Institute of Ecological Urban and Regional Development. Her work takes an interdisciplinary approach to studying cities as socio-ecological systems and exploring their potential to contribute to sustainable development.<\/p>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

Martina Artmann<\/h3>\n

“The Spirit of the Forest \u2015 A Childhood Memory That Shaped My Relation with Nature and Research”<\/strong><\/p>\n

I would like to use this roundtable to apologize to the ghost of the forest for harming the plants\u2014and to thank him for the mystical experience that shaped my values of kinship, respect, and care for the web of life.<\/blockquote><\/figure>\n

Some time ago, a close sibling said to me that he couldn\u2019t imagine what I actually do all day as a scientist. A fair question. Although I conduct research on urban human\u2013nature resonance<\/a>, most of my days are spent indoors, sitting at a computer: handling administrative spreadsheets, preparing lectures, applying for project funding, and writing papers. Ironically, my own daily experience with Nature is often quite limited\u2014perhaps even alienated from the more-than-human world I study.<\/p>\n

Still, for me, being in resonance with Nature is about more than simply being outdoors. Don\u2019t get me wrong\u2014I love being in forests and mountains and wish I could do it more often. However, what matters to me most is not the frequency of Nature visits, but the quality of the relationship we cultivate with Nature. It\u2019s about recognizing more-than-human nature as a soulful, animated partner\u2014someone we care for, listen to, and communicate with. However, how do we engage with these relational qualities not just intellectually, but as whole human beings in an accelerating and often numbing world?<\/p>\n

When I received the kind invitation to this round table, I wondered how I could contribute. To reflect, I went on a hike in the mountains. As I entered the forest, childhood memories came rushing back. I was lucky to grow up in a small village right next to a forest in the south of Germany. As a child, I spent countless hours there, alone and with friends.<\/p>\n

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Mountains and forests \u2013 the place I feel home. Photo: M. Artmann<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

One hot summer day, some friends and I wandered into a dense area filled with plants we believed to be dangerous, carnivorous. Of course, this was southern Germany\u2014no such plants exist there. But in our imaginations, it was our mission to destroy them. We stormed in with sticks, beating the plants. Then, suddenly, everything went silent. Without a word, we all froze and looked up into the conifer canopy. And there he was: the ghost of the forest. We felt him move through the trees, ordering us to stop and leave. In a flash, a group of kids burst into tears and sprinted out of the forest\u2014 over hill and dale and through stinging nettles \u2014straight to my parents\u2019 house, where we hid under the table. Once we\u2019d calmed down, we tried to make sense of it. We all agreed: the forest spirit had protected the plants. Even now, writing about it, I get goosebumps. As an adult, I could rationalize it\u2014group dynamics, imagination, fear. But the memory is vivid, and I know it shaped how I see forests today: as soulful, autonomous beings within a living web we relate to in multidimensional ways.<\/p>\n

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Are these real carnivorous plants? Photo: M. Artmann<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Over thirty years later, I feel privileged and grateful to dedicate my professional life to exploring how we can overcome anthropocentric worldviews and muted human\u2013nature relationships. I understand science as the endeavor to depict and understand the big picture of the relations we hold with the world and all its segments. If research aims to reflect reality, it must not ignore the invisible and non-material dimensions. Therefore, I see the urgent need to re-integrate transcendent and spiritual connections with Nature. For this, we need tools beyond statistics or remote sensing\u2014we need openness to shift our perspectives, an openness such as children have very naturally. This roundtable, I believe, is one such playground where we can explore how to overcome anthropocentric human-nature relations. A space where we can begin to see Nature not as a lifeless object but as a relative in the Earth family to which we all belong.<\/p>\n

I would like to use this roundtable to apologize to the ghost of the forest for harming the plants\u2014and to thank him for the mystical experience that shaped my values of kinship, respect, and care for the web of life. As a token of my gratitude, I would like to share a poem with you. I wrote this poem during a time when I was engaged in a workshop on shamanic energy work. Some might dismiss such practices as strange or esoteric\u2014but for me, it was grounding and deeply clarifying. Just as mountains and forests are part of my physical home, these ancient practices brought me home on an energetic level through a shift in frequency. This frequency is vibrating and alive and feels peaceful, warm, clear, and full of vitality. It reminded me of our profound connection to the world\u2014across time, space, the visible and invisible, the living and the dead. Remembering this can be a vital step in nourishing kinships with trees and forests. This poem didn\u2019t come from my mind alone, but from another source informed by this resonating frequency. The words and pictures captured in this poem have flowed out of me without thinking about them. By connecting with these different forms of knowing that address our mind, body, and spirit, we can begin to build a truly relational paradigm for both science and society.<\/p>\n

Inside me \u2012 inside us<\/strong><\/p>\n

Talking with the deer and rabbits
\nCooking with the moon and the stars
\nFlowing in being, vibrating with the divine feminine
\nInfinite power and wisdom in our veins<\/p>\n

The sparkle in my eyes shows of eternity
\nWe are born in the light and by the fire
\nFacing the moon, Mother Earth in our womb
\nOne out there in the forest with me and everything
\nAlone together with the entity of the magic energy<\/p>\n

Green the frequency flows
\nFrom head to toe to the beat of the drum
\nIn the circle the spiders dance
\nAnd weave their web of life
\nIn resonance with the mystical world
\nOf fairies, goblins, animals, and stones<\/p>\n

All join in a song of cosmic tones
\nFrom the bellies and eyes sparkles the moss green diamond
\nDips the night in the baptism
\nOf life full of lust and wildness,
\nGentleness and goodness \u2012 everything vibrates
\nEverything is, then, now and forever
\nInside me – inside us<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The original poem was written in German and can be read here: <\/em>https:\/\/urbnance.ioer.info\/blog\/blog-essay5\/index.htm<\/em><\/a>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Acknowledgement<\/strong><\/p>\n

Martina\u2019s work is supported by the Leibniz Best Minds Competition, Leibniz-Junior Research Group under Grant J76\/2019.<\/p>\n<\/div>

\n

Koki Atcheson and Heather L. McMillen<\/h3>\n
\n
\n
Koki Atcheson<\/div>\n
\n

about the writer
\n Koki Atcheson<\/a>\n <\/h3>\n

Koki Atcheson (she\/her) - Koki is an avid crafter with interests in secondhand textiles, utilizing unwanted or invasive plant materials, and gathering with others to make things by hand. In Koki's work with Kaulunani, the State of Hawai\u02bbi\u2019s Urban and Community Forestry Program, she practices art and building relationships with trees and people to create bridges between spreadsheets and \u02bb\u0101ina.<\/p>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
Heather McMillen<\/div>\n
\n

about the writer
\n Heather McMillen<\/a>\n <\/h3>\n

Heather McMillen is the Urban & Community Forester with the Hawai\u02bbi Department of Land & Natural Resources. She is also an affiliate faculty member of the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Management at the University of Hawai\u02bbi at M\u0101noa.<\/p>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n<\/div>\n

The engagement with this video product echoes the personal commitment involved in reciprocating with trees and forests.<\/blockquote><\/figure>\n

Kinship with Forests through Collage in the Conference Room<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

The effort to succinctly express our Hawai\u02bbi-based group’s thoughts on reciprocal relationships with trees and forests quickly grew beyond the boundaries afforded by written text alone. Using collage as a novel and expansive container, a group of us gathered to connect ideas with text, visuals, and forms, to explore the prompt and tell stories more fluid than those with only words. Materials included paper otherwise bound for the recycling bin (recognizing the sacrifice of trees in being turned to paper), printed emails and favorite photos, illustrations, handwritten notes, invasive and native plant material, a resolution from this legislative session urging community co-stewardship of community forests, and more.<\/p>\n

The viewer is asked to curate the meaning from the pieces and positioning of each collage. So, the engagement with this video product echoes the personal commitment involved in reciprocating with trees and forests. We are proud to submit a work that relies on paper and plant materials, and one that is irrefutably made by human hands.<\/p>\n