It is perhaps easy to understand why some of the Earth’s largest trees, with roots spreading deep into the underworld as their upper limbs ascend to heaven, are charged with symbolic importance. Yet the origins of our fixation are perhaps surprising. To give one example, the Buddha was said to have attained enlightenment beneath the spreading limbs of a bodi, or pipal tree. That same specimen still reputedly flourishes at Bodh Gaya in Nepal. Even earlier, the first temple of Jerusalem was constructed from timbers King Solomon obtained specifically from the cedars of Lebanon, whose own sacred status recedes into the mists of prehistory.
Elderflora – a name coined by Jared Farmer for these venerable old masters – suggests that little has changed since Solomon’s time. We are still awestruck by such trees’ longevity. We entwine them with exciting new stories, but continue to recycle the legends. Farmer sets out to capture all this in a series of arboreal biographies that are global in scope.
He points out that only certain trees (including the ginkgo, cedar, redwood, cypress, araucaria and pine) have the potential for great age.
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