Entwined within the myths, traditions, and customs of communities that have inhabited these lands for generations, the birch tree holds a profound place in Slavic mythology. Its presence resonates throughout the poetry of language, particularly evident in Russian, where the name for birch, ‘Bereza’, traces back to the root ‘berech’, meaning ‘to protect’.
Nia ManoyloBeneath a Birch: Wisdom of the Forest Keepers | Nia Manoylo
A serene boreal expanse spreads for miles; a sentinel descended upon these lands—the Siberian taiga stands, slowly breathing in evergreen silence. Covering over 1 million square miles of the region, the forest stretches endlessly, with fragrant coniferous taiga covering the majority of the land, bordering verdant temperate forests in the south, and an ancient, gloomy tundra in the north.
Once dense and intact, now we encounter the remains of destruction, traceable by burrows in the landscape, drawing lines akin to a stream carving its way through a mountain range. There are sharply defined lines where the dense forest ends and desolate black patches have taken root. The earth still feels warm. Heat coming through in waves, initially from the top layer of mixed ground, has now sunk into the deeper layers of sediment and settled. Black ground, covered with a thin veil of ash, stretches for miles. In this silent landscape, if you press your ear to the ground, you can almost hear the crackling of wood as it burned a few years ago.
In recent years, as temperatures are rising globally, wildfires have surged in frequency and intensity across the globe, ravaging landscapes from the Amazonian rainforest to California, from Australia to the evergreen expanse of Siberian taiga. In response to the escalating scale and magnitude of wildfires, scientists have used satellite imagery to monitor forest cover, as well as adapting artificial intelligence for predictive modeling and mapping timelines for future ecosystem regeneration under various conditions. Their attention has shied from the macroscale to a focus on the forest floor and its hidden workings below.
One prominent figure in this shift is forest ecologist Suzanne Simard, renowned for her pioneering research on mycorrhizal networks—the symbiotic associations between fungi and plant roots in forest ecosystems. Coining the term ‘Wood Wide Web’, her work has revealed the intricate connections between trees facilitated by mycelial networks and their importance in nutrient transfer, carbon sequestration, and forest resilience. In her book ‘Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest’, she writes,
“We have to think about the forest as a system. It’s not just a collection of individual trees; it’s a community of trees that are interconnected and interdependent.”
Excerpt from the book ‘Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest’ by
Suzanne Simard
Her studies revealed that trees exchange nutrients and chemical signals through mycelial networks, facilitating communication and cooperation among individual trees. She writes, “Trees have been communicating with each other in the soil, using this fungi highway.” (S. Simard, Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest, 2021)
In the depths of the silent taiga, that very soil, once a nurturing cradle for tree roots, now bears the marks of the inferno’s wrath. Some areas lay scorched, where the intense heat had penetrated deep into the earth, claiming the lives of trees whose anchors, unseen below the surface, succumbed to the relentless blaze.
In the aftermath of the destruction, it is an unassuming birch tree that begins the intricate interplay of destruction and renewal.
Much smaller than timeless oaks and towering pines, yet a slender birch takes hold. Ash and remnants of leaves and woody debris clung to the devastated landscape, resisting decay and slowing down the soil’s readiness to cradle new life. Yet birches persist in this warm, ashy silence of the burned-down landscape. In a few years’ time, shoots will start to emerge, growing further up and producing branches and leaves. In an empty landscape, it is impossible for many species to survive, lacking both food and shelter. First to appear on the landscape, birches provide shelter under their canopies for both smaller plants and animals. Birch’s catkins provide a food source for many small animals and birds, while their roots pull the nutrients up, returning them to the surface of the soil, where they are available to be shared with other species slowly returning to the forest.
Research into mycorrhizal networks has illuminated the symbiosis between birches and other trees in the forest. As they establish, their roots form mycorrhizal associations with fungi to transfer water, nutrients, and minerals to other trees, nurturing them as they too establish. In the meantime, their canopy cover offers protection for the understory and food for birds, insects, and small mammals, creating a sanctuary for the resurgence of life.
Known as a ‘nurse species’, birches create favorable conditions for the natural immigration of other tree species, pulling the nutrients from the soil and transferring them to young trees, helping them establish as the landscape recovers.
As Simard explains it, when observing a forest, what is visible above ground is merely a small fraction of the whole picture. The transfer of nutrients happens beneath the surface, via an intricate web of fungi and bacteria.
As scientific research unveils previously unseen mysteries of creation, the timeless wisdom of birches has quietly been carried and shared with us throughout human history. Entwined within the myths, traditions, and customs of communities that have inhabited these lands for generations, the birch tree holds a profound place in Slavic mythology.
Its presence resonates throughout the poetry of language, particularly evident in Russian, where the name for birch, ‘Bereza’, traces back to the root ‘berech’, meaning ‘to protect’. This subtle linguistic connection offers a glimpse into a deeper essence, long before scientific discoveries shed light on it.
During the harsh winter, when resources were scarce and the land lay dormant, birches provided a source of warmth through their wood, fueling fires and providing shelter from the biting cold.
As the grip of winter loosened, birches served as harbingers of spring. With the emergence of new leaves and the unfurling of catkins, it was a central tree in early spring celebrations with communal gatherings to collect birch sap, known for many medicinal benefits and culinary uses. Generations have passed down the knowledge of recognizing healthy birch trees and harvesting sap without causing harm. In alignment with astronomical signs, the commencement of birch sap collection coincides precisely with the vernal equinox. Many deities were associated with birches, and the tree was used in decorations and healing ceremonies, celebrating the awakening of nature.
With the change of seasons, their lush foliage provided shade and shelter from the sun’s rays during the warmer months. Later, during harvest festivals celebrated in September, birches are revered as a symbol of connection between communities and their ancestors, bridging the realms of the living and the deceased. Leaving offerings to the birch becomes a poignant means to communicate and honor ancestors, as these trees gracefully traverse between worlds.
And as the days grow shorter and the nights grow longer, birches gracefully retreat, shedding their vibrant foliage and driving solely to the earth below. In the heart of an endless taiga, as the forest heals and recovers once again, birches gently leave, making way for high-reaching pines to once again fill the landscape. The land slowly recovers as the miracle of creation unfolds in front of our eyes.
There is no coincidence that science and mythology are so intertwined. The story of creation is a shared one, with multitudes of organisms connected and woven together. As scientific discoveries unveil the hidden complexities of nature, such as the mycorrhizal networks that facilitate communication among trees, ancient myths and legends offer stories and language to describe the timeless processes of creation.
From healing the scorched soil to creating homes for myriads of species to cradling young trees that will eventually replace them, birches stand as storytellers of the forest. In these moments, we glimpse the essence of creation—a living force guiding the path of life from generation to generation with every breath of the forest.
Words by Nia Manoylo