A person who reads the world through the language of plants
The work and life of a plant taxonomist who protects disappearing vegetation

★ Recommended by poet Na Hee-deok and former director of the National Science Museum in Gwacheon, Lee Jeong-mo

A new collection of essays, “The Person Who Reads the Forest,” by Heo Tae-im, a plant taxonomist working at the National Baekdudaegan Arboretum, has been published.
In this book, the author tells the story of his work as a plant taxonomist and the plants he encountered along the way.

When you think of a plant taxonomist, you might picture them sitting in a quiet laboratory, examining plant specimens. However, the author's work is often in the rugged mountains, where they must take on many risks.
The book depicts a journey to restore nature by tracking and recording plants that are in danger of disappearing.

As poet Na Hee-deok wrote in his recommendation, author Heo Tae-im is a “vegetative human” who reads the world through the language of plants.
Through his meticulous gaze, plants such as thistles, pine trees, red maples, chestnut trees, and beech trees come back to life.
Photos of mountains and plants taken directly add vividness.

Every time I look at a plant, I think of something like a string of love.
The string that connects us to each other.
The seeds buried in the snow all winter will sprout into new shoots with a good mix of genes the next spring.
The sprouts continue the generations by adding strength to the colony and expanding its territory.
- From "The One Who Reads the Forest"

Every time I look at a plant, I think of something like a string of love.
The string that connects us to each other.
The seeds buried in the snow all winter will sprout into new shoots with a good mix of genes the next spring.
The sprouts continue the generations by adding strength to the colony and expanding its territory.
--- p.8

Wiping away my tears, I asked the tree, "Aren't you afraid of the night that comes every day?"
The answer that the sun rises because it has passed through the darkness, that light comes to us like that, that it is completely natural, sounded like a hallucination.
--- p.39

Taxonomy, which defines the boundaries between species, is not a fixed and unchanging truth, but rather an ongoing effort by finite humans to scientifically bring hypotheses closer to the truth in the face of changing nature.
--- pp.44-45

My work area is mostly the unmarked sections beyond the official hiking trails provided by various map apps.
That's about the extent of the digital benefits I can get.
Instead, from then on, I no longer need to be anxious about exceeding the expected time.
There is no need to worry about taking the wrong path.
Because my job is to make paths to find plants that live in places where there are no paths.
--- p.53

Just because the leaves of plants dry up in the fall doesn't mean the plants stop developing.
Plants prepare for winter by building more densely packed cells.
Taking care of one's inner self, such as by thinking deeply or immersing oneself in something.
The trees put so much effort into making winter buds.
Only after the winter snow has been safely made can we enter the season of fallen leaves.
Then the tree gains the strength to endure the harsh times to come.

--- pp.64-65

In physics, resonance refers to vibration caused by an external force.
It does not mean the action of brute force, but rather a reaction to the beat.
The phenomenon in which the sound of a violin string vibrating by being scratched with a bow reaches the resonating chamber and spreads out into a louder sound.
If so, wouldn't it also be resonance to sympathize with and follow someone's thoughts or actions?
The ever-increasing density of the spruce forest in June resonates with me that the compassionate heart of a person can create waves that transform the surroundings into a compassionate energy, and that this is karma and a profound resonance.
--- p.98

Hoyas are generally kind and gentle-natured.
Don't whine for water too often.
This is because it stores moisture in its thick leaves.
Unlike normal plants, they do not grow tall to compete for light.
Instead, they live more widely spread out sideways under other plants.
He seems like a bishop who is short but has a generous heart.
There is a unique brilliance that comes from the bishop and Hoya.
--- p.111

I didn't stop along the many roads connected by National Route 59.
Meeting the pine tree, understanding its language, and calling its name correctly.
Meanwhile, my ambitions turned into awe for them.
It seems that the vague notion of clarifying taxonomic entities or correcting errors has now taken on a different form than before.
Something like hope and expectation that we should learn the wisdom of the pine tree, the great ancestor of our planet.
I want to continue to encounter pine trees on the road.
I still want to dream.
--- p.142

Now autumn seems to be arriving particularly slowly.
Some people may be worried that fall will disappear like this.
As if oblivious to such worries, the maple tree continues to drop its leaves, dripping with water, from its body.
I put aside the fears that come with words like climate crisis and war, and embrace the deepening autumn and the approaching winter as they are.
A tree will only reveal its true form when it loses all its leaves.
The tree will have no weapons, no decorations, and no concealment.
So, the tree will more clearly reveal that it is not mine.
--- p.188

How about calling the movement of the seeds of the Park Ju-ga-ri ‘leaving home’?
True renunciation is not limited to a specific practitioner, and true renunciation is about breaking free from all attachments and entanglements, just like the Buddhist monk Beopjeong's sermon, the Park Ju-ga-ri seed speaks while spreading its thin, long, and dense feathers.
True freedom lies in inner self-control.
To embrace it, repeated self-examination is necessary.
And it happens.
The holy work of going to a truly distant place and settling in a wider land.

--- pp.204-205