Hello pine, hello contorta pine, if you are a contorta pine. Pleased to meet you here on the Öskjuhlid hill, if I pronounce it correctly, in Reykjavik. It's sunny but very windy so I hope the wind will not destroy our conversation. There is some noise in the background from the, not only from the wind but from the airport, but it's not as bad as this morning. It's Midsummer day the 25th of June and I have had the opportunity to spend a day meeting the pine trees and walking along the shore. You are very strong-looking and special, especially you but all of your kin and there's plenty of you. And somehow you look so exotic to me because you're different than the pine trees I'm used to, the Scots spines in Finland. If you are a contorta pine you can adapt to very different types of circumstances and you're growing mostly in North America. I read that most of the pine trees that have been planted in Iceland for timber production are actually contorta pines. But here on the hill here you grow like almost in a shrub-like form. In some sense it's of course rude of me to to come here and just sit in your lap as it were, taking for granted that you accept such intimate contact. But you are growing next to a path and I can see that people have really, human beings have walked nearby many times and I cannot believe that they wouldn't have tried to sit here because you're providing such a beautiful branch to sit on. Now when the evening is approaching it's really chilly, but this is nevertheless the warmest time of the year. And I'm impressed by the thought of you standing here, all through the Icelandic winter, which is probably rather cold, rather wet and rather windy. This is a special place, this hill and this wood because there are not that many woods in Iceland, although there are some nowadays. This is a site that was used for military purposes by the British Air Force during the Second World War. And they also built the airport right behind. I wonder what would be the best way I could learn from you. Because as Craig Holdrege, however that is pronounced proposes, we should try to learn to think like plants. And that goes for trees as well, or maybe especially trees. I'm engaged in a project called Pondering with Pines, so I'm wondering what topic would be interesting to reflect on or contemplate here with you. And, of course, the two ideas that Holdrege emphasises, or the ones that I remember him emphasising, are plants as teachers of context, of situation, of circumstance and the importance of the circumstances. And on the other hand, plants and why not trees as teachers of process, of living, dynamic thinking, as opposed to object thinking. The part which concerns the context, the site, the circumstances, the surroundings, the situation, that is somehow very easy to understand, because you are rooted here and you express in your body, the characteristics of the place you're living in. But what about transformation, about processual thinking? It is perhaps more difficult to understand, except that, of course, you're continuously transforming body is evidence of that, too, like the lower branches that I'm touching right now, which are older and have lost their needles. And the upper branches that are full of needles and seem green and lush. It is difficult to imagine what made you grow into this form. What kind of decisions you had to make, in order to produce so many branches and twists in a way. It depends on if we think of... Or, I wonder, if you consider yourself as a collective, as many philosophers suggest that trees or plants are. Of course to use terms such as 'consider oneself' sounds anthropomorphising, but... What I mean is more like, you have a very specific way of organising your growth and your form because you really practice democracy as I would expect, or... I cannot know but if I understand biologist and botanists and philosophers engaged with plants it is like your different parts have quite a lot of agency, separately so you are self-organising, not centrally organised, but your different parts are more or less self-organising, but nevertheless synchronised. That's admirable, that's something we humans should learn from you as well. But, of course, this idea of not only adapting to circumstances, but creating your own circumstances is something very interesting as well. Because by planting trees and helping trees, after a while the trees, you, create your own habitat, your own circumstances, your own microclimate. You produce your soil, you create a wood or a forest. And that is of course, also very reassuring in a strange way that it is possible to recreate some kind of forests, because humans did destroy them here as I understand. They had to, to survive. And then they didn't realise that that the trees couldn't grow back because their world was destroyed. But by planting new trees, even though maybe not native trees, a new world is created so to speak, slowly, but still. So what else can I say here when I'm freezing? The sun is now behind the clouds. What else can I say except the congratulations for creating this world that we also can, this wood here on this hill, that we humans also can enjoy. And good luck with continuing with that work. Thank you. Thank you.