12/22/2025
Years ago, I attended a maple sugaring workshop. I don’t remember much from that day, but I’ll never forget what impressed me most: the instructor could identify every tree on the property.
“This is a red maple,” she said. “Over there is a sugar maple. And right there is a black maple.”
A year later, I attended a walk with a mushroom club. I don’t remember what we found that day, but I do remember what the leader did: he identified all the oaks in the forest.
“This is a white oak,” he said. “Notice how the lobes of the leaves are rounded. Right next to it is a northern red oak. Look at the bristle-tipped points on the leaves.”
I was impressed. It seemed almost like a magic trick to be able to look at trees and confidently identify them.
Inspired, I decided to work on my own tree identification skills. I read books, attended classes, watched videos, and spent countless hours trudging through all kinds of ecosystems. Eventually, I achieved my goal of becoming a proficient tree identifier, but what I didn’t expect was everything else that came with it.
By learning trees, I improved my ecological literacy and learned to read landscapes. I also developed a deeper appreciation for geology and strengthened my connection to nature.
I didn’t know trees could do this. No book said it would happen, and no class mentioned the residual effects of learning tree identification. But the more I learned about trees, the more I understood their gift: they could tell remarkable stories of life, love, transformation, and personal connection.
To discover these stories for yourself, I encourage you to become a skilled identifier of trees. Read books. Watch videos. Take classes, and spend lots of time observing. Each encounter with a tree is an opportunity to connect with land, life, history, and mystery.