Children experience the world differently from adults. A large tree, for example, can be even more immense to them. But this is not just because of the proportion distinguishing an adult's body size from a child's. Speaking about the size of things, Francisco told me, "Trees are one of the biggest things in the world because, look, mommy, it's a seed!". For him, the immensity of trees is not only explained by their "actual" size.

Twenty meters.

The immensity of a tree lies in the simultaneous relationship it establishes with its tiny seed. The seed, therefore, is not just something that the tree was (a memory, a thought). The tree is the presentification and material embodiment of the seed in the now.

But trees, Francisco continued, are also immense because "they grow in all directions and then grow again." What makes a tree immense is not just its width or height. It is the act of growing itself. Undeterred by direction, they grow: their roots delve deep, their trunks reach the sky, and branches with leaves unfurl outwards. And not only that, they grow again. Whether they're branches that regenerate or leaves that return in spring. But also in the form of seeds or even vegetative propagation that makes a new tree grow. In this case, there is no reproduction, and the growing plant is usually “identical” to the original, which in biology is termed a "clone." A new tree that is the same as the other despite being Other.

This is a photo I took in 2023 in Grunewald, Berlin, as part of my research on the practices of 'environing' and natures. I held a small mirror close to the lens, reflecting the tree in front of Francisco. The mirror enlarged the tree, making it so immense that it couldn't fit within the frame. This was an attempt to infuse the image with Francisco's narrative about what it feels like to be among these trees and what they are and can become.