TREES LOADING ...

I AM POHUTUKAWA

The Maori here on the North Island call me by this name. They understand me. They grant me a crucial role in their lives. To these islanders, I am a sacred being. My roots form a timeless bridge, descending deep into the sea, creating a passageway from one world to another. The souls of the living Maori connect through me to the souls of their ancestors. I am integral to their festivities and woven into the fabric of their lives. To the Europeans who have recently arrived on my islands, I am merely the "New Zealand Christmas Tree," adorned in December with a robe of furry red blossoms on velvety green.

My roots extend, tasting the sandy, murky brew and the rocky remnants of creatures past. High in the vast realms of the sky, the winged ones preach and prey. I stretch my limbs, savoring their freedom. On cool, misty nights, my colors turn shades of grey as I merge with the air around me.

I am a survivor. My ancestors have taught me resilience. I build my fortress from boulder and stone. When storms come, they hurl themselves upon me. I reach out my great arms and combat their force with all the fury of my soul. As the breezes swirl, I absorb their twists and turns and begin to dance. Deep inside, I feel my inner energy ignited by the storm’s fiery embrace. On tranquil days, I stand peacefully, observing the colors at play all around.

Home:

New Zealand, Bay of Islands, Waitata Bay, Long Beach

Tree species:

Metrosideros excelsa

Tree family:

Myrtaceae, myrtle

Common Names:

Pohutukawa, Ironwood Tree, New Zealand Christmas Tree

Motivation:

It was a beautiful, sunny day in the Bay of Islands on the North Island of New Zealand. A boat ride and a short hike led us to the remote Waitata Bay. It was midday, and the sun stood at its zenith. In the rocky, shallow waters below, the radiance of the sun reflected the sky in myriad colors. This astounding tree appeared calm and still, but I could feel its dancing spirit