Nottinghamshire wildlife Trust talks about why he is proud to be considered a tree hugger

On a recent bus journey into the City Centre, I happened to look up from my phone screen just as we were passing a number of rather impressive trees at the junction in the road, was instantly struck by their scale and wonderful shape and by the fact that although I’d been passing them all my life, I’d never taken the time to notice them. Writes Erin Mcdaid of the Nottinghamshire wildlife Trust.

I’d guess that these urban trees might be 150 to 200 years old. Whilst this might seem venerable, in comparison to our own lives, these roadside specimens are relative infants in arboricultural terms.

Trees are the longest living organisms on land — beaten only by types of sponge and jellyfish to the title of oldest living things on the planet. The oldest UK trees are over 2000 years old, but in some parts of the world there are trees approaching their sixth millennium.

Despite having clearly not paid enough attention to the trees along my route to work, I am a huge admirer of trees, but I have to admit to hugging them only infrequently. I can more regularly be found staring up into the canopy of large specimens, taking in their shape, structure and sheer scale.

I also like to touch the bark on mature trees as I look closely at its complexity. When in the presence of old trees, I find myself considering the changes that have happened in the in sight of it and in the wider landscape since they sprouted from tiny seeds.

The immense lifespan of trees has led many to ponder what we might learn, what wisdom we could glean, if only trees could talk. Although many would suggest that trees can ‘speak’ to us on an emotional level, and we can learn from them through scientific study, reflection and contemplation. Through science we now know that trees can in fact communicate – but sadly only with each other.

As with other plants, trees communicate through their root systems, sharing information about environmental threats such as drought or insect attack as well as nutrients and water. These distress signals trigger behavioural responses which can boost trees’ chances of survival.

In a balanced, healthy forest environment, trees are connected by and communicate through a vast underground fungal system. Officially termed mycorrhizal networks – these have been christened the ‘wood-wide-web’ by some.

Hairlike tips on tree roots connect with microscopic fungal filaments to form the architecture of the network in what appears to be very much a mutually beneficial relationship between trees and fungi. In return for playing their part, fungi can absorb sugars which the trees produce through photosynthesis of sunlight.

The sugar provides vital sustenance for the fungi which extract nitrogen, phosphorus and other mineral nutrients from the soil – absorbed in turn by the trees.

Having considered just how amazing trees are whilst drafting this piece; I wonder if I should actually hug them more often. In some quarters the name tree hugger has become a derogatory term used to dismiss those who care about the environment and take a stand to protect it, as somehow being anti-progress.

The Cambridge Dictionary explains that it is a humorous and disapproving term, whilst the Britannica Dictionary states that a tree hugger is someone ‘regarded as foolish or annoying because of being too concerned about protecting trees, animals, and other parts of the natural world from pollution and other threats’.

I don’t consider myself or anyone foolish for being concerned about the environment which supports us all and I struggle to quantify what, as we face up to massive ecological and climate crises, would constitute being too concerned.

I’d suggest that anyone using the term in a derogatory sense is to some extent seeking to deflect from their own responsibilities for protecting our shared environment – perhaps seeking to dismiss others’ concern out of a fear that recognising the scale of the problem might mean they have to change their own behaviour.

Whilst reading up in preparation for this piece I realised, much to my embarrassment, that I was not aware of the term’s sad but inspiring origins. It was originally used as long ago as 1730 when 350 villagers died trying to prevent the clearance of forest in India.

Villagers were slaughtered whilst clinging to the trees. In the 1970’s their actions later inspired the Chipko movement in the Himalayas hills of northern India where villagers used the same tactic to thwart foresters. The approach spread across India, leading to a reform of forestry practice.

Their success can be seen as something of a watershed moment in terms of environmental activism and I wonder whether people would still use the word in such a dismissive and derogatory sense if they knew its true origins.