A tree is an incomprehensible mystery.

Jim Woodring once declared: “A tree is an incomprehensible mystery.” At first glance, these words seem simple, but if we pause and contemplate them as sages of old would, we discover depths beyond measure. For the tree is not merely wood, bark, and leaf. It is the silent witness of centuries, a being that transforms earth, water, air, and light into living form. It stands rooted and still, yet grows skyward with a strength unseen, embodying both patience and power. To call it a mystery is to confess that human reason, no matter how sharp, cannot fully grasp the miracle of its existence.

The origin of this insight lies in the way Woodring, an artist of the surreal and the visionary, perceived the world. His work often touches upon the strange, the symbolic, the dreamlike. For him, the tree is not just a plant—it is a gateway to wonder, a reminder that existence is far greater than the human mind can contain. Science may tell us of photosynthesis and root systems, but it cannot explain the sacred presence a towering oak inspires in the human heart, nor why we feel reverence beneath its shade. Thus, the tree remains both known and unknowable, both familiar and eternal.

The ancients understood this well. The Norse told of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, whose branches held the heavens and whose roots reached into the underworld. The Druids worshipped groves as holy places, believing that divine wisdom dwelled within the trees. In India, under the Bodhi Tree, the Buddha attained enlightenment, making the tree not a mere plant but a cosmic companion to awakening. Across cultures, the tree has always stood as a symbol of life, knowledge, endurance, and mystery. Woodring’s words simply echo what humanity has whispered for millennia: this being of bark and leaf is a living riddle.

History, too, gives us stories that illuminate this truth. Consider the chestnut tree that Anne Frank gazed upon from her hiding place. While the world outside was torn by cruelty, that tree stood as a symbol of hope, endurance, and the possibility of renewal. For Anne, the tree was a mystery of comfort—a being that spoke without words. Or think of the General Sherman Tree in California, a giant sequoia thousands of years old. Men may measure its girth and height, but can they measure the mystery of its survival through ages of storm, fire, and time?

The meaning of Woodring’s words lies in this duality: we may explain aspects of a tree, but we can never exhaust its mystery. It takes sunlight into itself and gives back breath; it drinks the earth and creates fruit; it stands silent yet shapes entire ecosystems. It outlives us, shelters us, and humbles us, reminding us of the smallness of our days. To call it a mystery is not to turn away from knowledge, but to recognize that knowledge itself bows before the vastness of life.

The lesson for us is clear: learn to stand in reverence before the mystery of life. Do not be so arrogant as to think that everything can be reduced to formulas and explanations. A tree does not ask to be solved, but to be honored, to be noticed, to be protected. When we acknowledge mystery, we open our souls to wonder, humility, and gratitude. This is the beginning of wisdom.

In practice, this means spending time with trees—walking among them, sitting beneath their shade, listening to their silence. Plant them where there are none. Protect them where they are threatened. And most of all, let them remind you that life is deeper than comprehension, that beauty and mystery are woven into the fabric of existence.

Therefore, remember Woodring’s wisdom: “A tree is an incomprehensible mystery.” Carry it with you as a reminder that not all things are meant to be solved; some are meant to be revered. For in the presence of the tree, we find not only shade and shelter, but also a reflection of eternity itself—silent, patient, and forever beyond the grasp of the mind, yet always within reach of the soul.