Both "The Forest Unseen" and "The Songs of Trees" are available at Amazon, in bookstores or online at dghaskell.com.Deep in the heart of Ecuador's Amazon rainforest, there stands a tree whose leaves exude a brilliant, pink hue. The tree, Lecythis pisonis, commonly known as the monkey pot tree, is at risk to be uprooted due to the oil drilling overtaking much of the area.
When Sewanee University professor and author David Haskell went to see it, he simply wanted to sit under it - and listen to it. Listening to a tree requires much more than waiting for the wind to blow, the former Pulitzer Prize finalist says. Haskell uses not just his ears, but an ultrasound machine to listen. But even beyond that, listening is about noticing and documenting the interconnectivity of the ecosystem in which the tree exists; a system defined by an unseen codependency.
That Amazonian tree, and several others spanning from Manhattan to Jerusalem, became the inspiration and focus of Haskell's second book, "The Songs of Trees (Stories from Nature's Great Connectors)," set to be released April 4.
The book is a followup to Haskell's first novel, "The Forest Unseen," which examined 1 square meter of old-growth forest within the Cumberland Plateau and its changes over the course of one year, documenting the interactions that occurred to show the intricacies of the ecosystem.
"So this second book, I took some of that spirit but spread the geography to look at how specific trees and people are connected," Haskell says.
Some of the particular trees featured, like a "seemingly otherwise ordinary" tree living on a busy, concrete street corner in Manhattan or a "long dead" hazel tree in Scotland, invoke unexpected connections.
"In a place that we think is all about humans ... nature is still present. So the tree in Manhattan was a great teacher [of that]," he explains.
The hazel tree tells a story of an 8,000-year-old village created by those who migrated to Scotland following the last ice age. Now, evidence of the tree exists only in the pellets of charcoal that were created by the electric coal plant adjacent to the site where the old village's remains were unearthed.
"We've got the juxtaposition of a very simple tree fire and village next to the controversial coal fire plant," Haskell says. "So this one little spot, this one little pile of charcoal, was a window to looking into other issues ... questions humans have been struggling since we invented fire: How do we harness energy?"
Why did Haskell choose trees to introduce the larger concept of connectivity? The answer is multifaceted, he says.
The literal sound of the tree factors in, he explains. Ultrasounds from each tree differentiate between the sounds a pine makes and those that a maple makes, both in terms of regular growth within the tree and responses to the surrounding environment.
"The acoustics of trees is actually really beautiful," he says. "When a tree is stressed, you can hear it in the cracklings in the ultrasounds, like when it needs water when it is too hot."
The message, however, extends far beyond the trees and their environment.
"The lives of humans and of trees are deeply intertwined and often inseparable," Haskell says. "We think of ourselves as very different ... but I think cultures recognize this in religious symbolism."
For instance, he points to the olive tree's deep significance in Christianity, Islam and Judaism. Even in language, the concept of being "rooted" in a place draws on the imagery of trees.
"A tree appears to be individual, but in reality it's part of a community, and if that community ends for any reason - war, drought, whatever - that tree falls. It's about life all being about connection. That's what unites all of the chapters.
"Life is made out of relationships. That's a concept that's very abstract that I wanted to make tangible."