This reads like a field guide for anyone who’s convinced their creative canopy has already burned—and a reminder that the burn‐scar is where the next root system takes hold.
What struck me most isn’t the miracle of the chestnuts themselves, but the genealogy of obsessions that kept them alive: Bommer’s cartographic mania, Huvenne’s restoration stubbornness, your own “deranged” devotion to a species most people can’t even identify on sight. It’s the chain-reaction of private fixations—passed hand to hand across centuries—that turns catastrophe into seedbed.
Publishing works the same way. A book proposal feels, at ground level, like paperwork; step back a century and it’s part of a much longer mycelial network, one that may carry a voice further than the author can imagine. The “ruined monastery” stage of a career isn’t a verdict; it’s the moment when the overstory finally opens, the audience changes shape, and the seedlings that were starved for light get their first sun.
So here’s the takeaway I’m grafting onto my own work:
Write like the arboretum will be abandoned.
Because one day it will—and that’s when the trees have to know how to survive on their own.
Thank you for letting us walk the trail with you and remember that every extinction narrative has a secret seed bank waiting to rebel.
I loved this one! The brutality! The happenstance and wonder! When I googled "dr charles bommer belgium" to find out more, your post was the top hit. I can't believe no one has written a book on him yet?!! Maybe you will.
If I recall correctly, there are a lot more source materials in French and Flemish — I used a lot of Google Translate when writing the original piece, lol. The guys at Tervuren have also written a lovely book on the park (and translated it into like 4 languages, I think by themselves).
You bought the book at the park, I imagine? I’m definitely rabbit holing through their beautiful website as we speak.
I don’t know if you know, but the PNW’s giant Western red cedars are starting to die off due to too many draught years in a row without chance of recovery in between. It’s not at all rare to see 300-400 year old red cedars out here, some with visible chunks of bark removed by the Coast Salish nations.
I can still stand among them all day long here in Seattle, but I’m not sure my grandchildren will. It’s heartbreaking to think they might have to go to Belgium to see them, but also, they might get to go to Belgium to see them!! Sigh. It’s too much to bear sometimes, but what else do we even have?
Sigh. I suspect you would love my client Marguerite Holloway’s book TAKE TO THE TREES if you’re thinking about all this as much as I am — and yeah, I got the book from Patrick & co. when I was last over there…
This reads like a field guide for anyone who’s convinced their creative canopy has already burned—and a reminder that the burn‐scar is where the next root system takes hold.
What struck me most isn’t the miracle of the chestnuts themselves, but the genealogy of obsessions that kept them alive: Bommer’s cartographic mania, Huvenne’s restoration stubbornness, your own “deranged” devotion to a species most people can’t even identify on sight. It’s the chain-reaction of private fixations—passed hand to hand across centuries—that turns catastrophe into seedbed.
Publishing works the same way. A book proposal feels, at ground level, like paperwork; step back a century and it’s part of a much longer mycelial network, one that may carry a voice further than the author can imagine. The “ruined monastery” stage of a career isn’t a verdict; it’s the moment when the overstory finally opens, the audience changes shape, and the seedlings that were starved for light get their first sun.
So here’s the takeaway I’m grafting onto my own work:
Write like the arboretum will be abandoned.
Because one day it will—and that’s when the trees have to know how to survive on their own.
Thank you for letting us walk the trail with you and remember that every extinction narrative has a secret seed bank waiting to rebel.
Oh, wow. Thank you SO much for this post.
I loved this one! The brutality! The happenstance and wonder! When I googled "dr charles bommer belgium" to find out more, your post was the top hit. I can't believe no one has written a book on him yet?!! Maybe you will.
If I recall correctly, there are a lot more source materials in French and Flemish — I used a lot of Google Translate when writing the original piece, lol. The guys at Tervuren have also written a lovely book on the park (and translated it into like 4 languages, I think by themselves).
You bought the book at the park, I imagine? I’m definitely rabbit holing through their beautiful website as we speak.
I don’t know if you know, but the PNW’s giant Western red cedars are starting to die off due to too many draught years in a row without chance of recovery in between. It’s not at all rare to see 300-400 year old red cedars out here, some with visible chunks of bark removed by the Coast Salish nations.
I can still stand among them all day long here in Seattle, but I’m not sure my grandchildren will. It’s heartbreaking to think they might have to go to Belgium to see them, but also, they might get to go to Belgium to see them!! Sigh. It’s too much to bear sometimes, but what else do we even have?
Sigh. I suspect you would love my client Marguerite Holloway’s book TAKE TO THE TREES if you’re thinking about all this as much as I am — and yeah, I got the book from Patrick & co. when I was last over there…
Yes! This looks so good! Thank you for the recommendation.
The symbolism of this is breathtaking. Thank you for this: "Apocalypse was always the chestnuts’ time to shine... their moment is the rebound..."
Gorgeous. Thank you 🙏🏼
Lovely. The emergence of good in the midst of our darkest wishes.
Nourishment for the soul. Thank you.
I loved this. Thank you, Anna. ❤️
This is exactly what I needed. Thank you. 💕
That was beautiful.
Absolutely fascinating, thank you 🙏🏻