What’s the story behind the tree?

Collage of trees in Dutch landscapes. Photos: Rob Visser Photography / SNBL Natuurfonds

This year’s Tree of the Year election centres on the story behind the tree. Bionieuws lets a selection of the twelve candidates speak for themselves.

Trees are symbols of life – or more specifically of fertility, regeneration, and the keeping of memories alive. Their fixed position in the landscape makes trees almost naturally into historical monuments and silent witnesses to all the changes unfolding around them. Almost everyone has – consciously or not – some connection with a tree, because trees carry stories both small and large. The Netherlands is estimated to have just 344 million trees: around twenty trees per inhabitant, well below the global average of 422 trees per inhabitant (Resource, 2015). That makes our relationship with trees all the more personal.

Until 7 October, the annual Tree of the Year election is under way, in which everyone can vote for one of the twelve nominated trees in the Netherlands at www.deboomvanhetjaar.nl. The winning tree will be entered into the European Tree of the Year 2025 competition, in which the maidenhair tree (Ginkgo biloba) from the Leiden botanical garden achieved a creditable twelfth place in 2024. Bionieuws made a pre-selection of six trees and lets them tell their own story, to help readers make an informed choice about which tree should represent the Netherlands this year.

‘My soul has defied the passage of time. I stand at the heart of the English garden among snowdrops, bluebells, ostrich ferns and ivy. People call me stately, grand and charming. Horticultural school pupils were taught their first lessons in plant knowledge partly thanks to me, or spoke their dreams and declarations of love beneath my canopy. In 2004 the horticultural school closed its doors and a blanket of forgetting fell over the garden. My bark cracked, my crown sagged, and now I rest largely on the ground. But thanks to the caring hands of volunteers, I am still here, my leaves gleaming like emerald and my branches dancing in the sunlight.’

‘I have been rooted in the Kootwijkerzand my entire life – the largest inland drift-sand area in Western Europe, now a nature reserve of some 700 hectares. In the Middle Ages, bog iron ore was collected and processed here. The large-scale felling of trees for the charcoal required exposed the sandy soil, which began to drift. As a result, the village that once stood here disappeared beneath the sand and all its inhabitants left. I stand here now, fairly solitary, beside the lookout tower, on an open plain where temperatures can reach as high as 60 degrees and can even drop below freezing in summer. My motto for life: deep roots grow by your own strength.’

‘I owe my life to the Twente textile industry. Abraham Ledeboer of the textile firm Van Heek & Co had an English-style garden laid out here. If I remember correctly, I was planted around 1865, although my nameplate states that I was planted 25 years later and that I grew from seeds the Ledeboer family brought back from a trip to California. With a girth of nearly 8.5 metres, many visitors already find me quite impressive – but in California there lives a fellow member of my species with a girth of more than 31 metres. They call him General Sherman, and compared to him I am still just a slender sapling.’

¹ Chosen as Tree of the Year 2025 on 9 October with 2,716 votes

‘My relatives were driven out, uprooted and reviled en masse as a forest pest. But I stood my ground bravely and weathered storms, grief and countless seasons here, at De Nieuwe Ooster cemetery in Amsterdam. I was planted at the end of the 19th century when this burial ground was laid out, designed by the celebrated landscape architect Leonard Springer. Where ornamental shrubs once adorned the crossings, I grew into the thickest black cherry in the Netherlands. I am a veteran bearing the marks of fungus and age, but I am still alive. My presence is a reminder that trees should not merely be combated, but cherished as monuments of beauty and time.’

‘My roots are anchored in the rich soil of Westhove, where Sea Beggars and Spanish soldiers once fought one another. My trunk bears the marks of storms and lightning, yet my crown still spreads wide. I am a sweet chestnut of nearly a century and a half, an outsider that the Netherlands has embraced since Roman times. Every autumn I bear fruit in abundance, as though determined to prove that resilience always wins. Visitors see dreaminess in my gnarled forms, but above all I am a witness: to war and peace, to decay and flourishing. My chestnuts and leaves tell stories of steadfastness.’

‘I have stood on Groenesteeg, the historic cemetery in the heart of Leiden, for more than 160 years. With a girth of 7.72 metres, I am the thickest tree in South Holland. My origin is remarkable: a common beech serves as the rootstock, bearing a copper beech as its crown, uniting strength and elegance in a single form. I have watched generations pass by, from grieving families to walkers seeking quiet here. In autumn I turn deep red, a sign of transience that often moves visitors. It is not only my size, but above all my bond with this place, that makes me a monument of life and remembrance.’

The testimonies of these trees are drawn from the stories on the website deboomvanhetjaar.nl.