trees of madeira
The trees are very loud.
When I arrived at my mountain studio, located at the beginning of what once was a forest, before the fire, I never would have thought I’d spend my time developing a conscious relationship with trees.
I knew I felt at home in nature, I knew I liked to hug trees.
I was also still trying to understand why it felt so natural to talk to the island of Madeira as if she was listening.
Maybe because she does. And maybe she also speaks through the trees.
What I learned during my short stay in 2025 is that trees talk.
I don’t hear words, but I sense their presence. Loudly.
If that makes sense.
They have stories to share.
The trees in the west of the island are survivors of the wild fire in 2023.
They want to be acknowledged and seen.
They still carry the trauma, and the wind & rain ease the pain.
Singing to them, speaking prayers of healing, or simply walking among them brings comfort & solace.
Many of them are being chopped down, separated from their kin, or left hanging with naked roots exposed, as a result of erosion and weakening soil.
The trees in the Fanal forest sensed the disruption back then.
They are wise elders.
The grounding force of the island.
They don’t ‘speak’ much, but their sheer presence speaks for themselves.
I can meditate among them for hours.
The trees ‘taught’ me how to grow roots.
How it feels to be deeply connected: to community, to friends, to family.
How to slow down and witness life through their eyes.
During my stay, I watched a documentary about trees and explored the work of the well-known German forest ranger Peter Wohlleben to verify my experiences and broaden my understanding.
I created a whole category on this blog dedicated to the trees of Madeira to collect my impressions.
It’s a fascinating world we live in.