Forest intelligence awakening

Wandering in the Couple Acre Wood at this time of year is to walk in anticipation, mindful that life soon will return rejuvenated from its resting sojourn in winter slumber. Each year I am surprised, like the first time I met a Shagbark hickory.

I had seen the name on street signs where the species had been removed to make room for houses, but never had I noticed a live Shagbark in its native habitat. And then there it was, looking as though no other name could possibly be attached. There are other hickories in the Couple Acre Wood but they all look the same to me. I’m working on that.

The ground is getting that early spring crystalline crunch, especially on the paths where footsteps from humans and Whitetail deer held water that has frozen and raised the ground on pillars of ice. Walking on the crystals is like walking on a sandy beach; your eyes see the surface but when you step on it your foot keeps going, like stepping on the last step of a staircase and discovering there is one more step.

For the past couple of weeks the geese have been gathering in medium-size flocks. I’m not always sure where they are going because sometimes they are heading south and this is the time of year to head north. But then north and south sometimes are relative terms, and many of these geese are year-round residents, trained a century ago to stay right around here.

Meanwhile, the crabapple tree in our backyard is showing hints of impending greenery. It has long been obvious to me that critters, even insects, are intelligent, though that, too, is a relative term. Plants are able to decide when to come out of the suspended animation that has protected their plumbing all winter. The sap – plants’ blood supply – soon will flow and leaves grow and begin inhaling sunlight and exhaling the oxygen without which we humans will expire.

Plants, it turns out, are capable of more magic than merely providing oxygen for human Terrans. Plants can talk to each other, even inter-species using chemical signals the way we more mobile beings use smoke signals and other alarms.

We humans dab perfume to attract a partner, but we also exude aromas that can do the same thing. Ants follow their leaders’ aroma to the food source. Dogs can smell when we are afraid, but also when a diabetic’s blood sugar is low and when various types of cancer have appeared.

Some plants put up 9-1-1 calls and soon birds are flocking where they were not present, and the horde of caterpillars that were decimating the trees’ leaves have become bird food. Or a tree might become aggravated at the damage caused by tent caterpillars and simply kill the little devils off.

It seems every time we humans get in our heads that critters below us are inferior or without intelligence, we are proven wrong and another level of “smart” is revealed. I guess I will be paying extra attention to the interactions of plant life in the Couple Acre Wood. I think I will not change my eating habits – it turns out every being is on another being’s menu –but each day I gain new appreciation for the First Settlers who gave thanks for the sacrifice of each critter they put on their hearth.

Text and Images ©2025 John Messeder. John is an award-winning environmental storyteller, nemophilist and social anthropologist living in Gettysburg, PA. He may be contacted at john@johnmesseder.com