7 Famous Trees of The World

Today, trees face threats such as deforestation, habitat reduction and fires fueled by climate change. Despite it all, these seven tree species continue to symbolize the lands they call home.

Forest in Italy. Giuseppe Costanza. CC0 1.0

As urbanization and overpopulation fuel clearcutting around the globe, these trees stand in their own glory. Granted protection status, having festivals in their honor and attracting admirers from around the world, this is a list of trees that have made a name for themselves and their roots. 

1. Baobabs, Madagascar 

The Avenue of Baobabs. Zigomar. CC BY-SA 2.0

For many, the Avenue of Baobabs is the first thing that comes to mind when they hear the word "Madagascar." Approximately 50 baobab trees line the dusty road and surrounding groves between Morondava and Belon'i Tsiribihina. Endemic to the island, the trees are referred to as "renala," or "mother of the forest," by locals. The avenue has gained international fame, attracting crowds during sunset and became the first protected natural monument in Madagascar in 2007 when it was granted temporary protection status. 

2. Yucca Trees of Joshua Tree State Park, California, USA

YuccaTree in Joshua Tree State Park.Esther Lee. CC BY 2.0

The yucca trees, for which California's Joshua Tree State Park was named, got the nickname “Joshua” from a band of Mormons traveling from Nebraska. The lunar desert climate is ideal for yuccas, which have grown adapted to storing water inside their trunks and twisted branches. They are said to be able to survive on very little rainfall a year, but if the weather happens to bring rain in the spring, the yuccas will give thanks with a sprout of flowers. 

3. Cherry Blossoms, Japan

Cherry blossoms at Mount Fuji. Tanaka Juuyo. CC BY 2.0

The cherry blossom, or sakura, is considered the national flower of Japan. Hanami, the Japanese custom of enjoying the flowers, attracts locals and visitors to popular viewing spots across the country during the annual Cherry Blossom Festival. Peak bloom time depends on the weather, and the cherry trees have been flowering earlier and earlier each year due to climate change. On average, the cherry trees reach peak bloom in mid to late March and last around two weeks.

4. Jacaranda Trees, Mexico City, Mexico

Jacaranda trees. Tatters. CC BY-NC 2.0

Every spring, the already vibrant streets of Mexico City are lined with the jacaranda's violet bloom. President Álvaron Obregón commissioned Tatsumi Matsumoto, an imperial landscape architect from Japan, to plant the trees along the city's main avenues in 1920. Matsumoto was the first Japanese immigrant to come to Mexico, arriving a year before the first mass emigration in 1897 and staying until his death in 1955. Today the jacarandas are considered native flowers and symbolize international friendship. 

5. Rubber Fig Trees, Meghalaya, India

Double-decker living roots bridge. Ashwin Kumar. CC BY-SA 2.0

Widely considered the wettest region in the world, villagers of the northeast Indian state of Meghalaya are separated by deep valleys and running rivers every monsoon season. The living roots bridges are handmade by the Khasi and Jaintia people with the aerial roots of rubber fig trees. The bridges grow strong as the tree's roots thicken with age, holding more than 50 people and lasting centuries if maintained. The double root bridge, pictured above, is almost 180 years old, stands at 2,400 feet high and suspends 30 meters in length. 

6. Argan Trees, Morocco

Goats in an Argania tree. remilozach. CC0 1.0

Built to survive the Saharan climate, Argan trees are endemic to southwestern Morocco. Their scientific name, Argania, is derived from the native Berber language of Shilha (also known as Tashelhit). The trees grow fruits used to make argan oil, an ingredient found in many beauty products. Rights to collect the fruit are controlled by law and village traditions, while several women's co-operatives produce the oil. Goats are frequently photographed climbing argan trees and help in the production process by eating the nuts, leaving the vitamin-rich seeds for the locals to collect. 

7. Trees of the Hoh Valley, Washington, USA

Trees in Hoh Valley. James Gaither. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

On the Pacific side of the Olympic Mountains in the Hoh Rainforest, lush yellow and green moss covers some of North America's giants, including the Sitka Spruce, Red Cedar, Big Leaf Maple and Douglas Fir. As a result of the area's average 140 inches of rainfall per year, the moss is not only enchanting but beneficial. Moss plays an essential role in supporting the forest's biodiversity; like a sponge, it decays, absorbs and finally releases nutrients for the trees’ roots to feed off. 

Claire Redden

Claire is a freelance journalist from Chicago, where she received her Bachelor’s of Communications from the University of Illinois. While living and studying in Paris, Claire wrote for the magazine, Toute La Culture. As a freelancer she contributes to travel guides for the up and coming brand, Thalby. She plans to take her skills to London, where she’ll pursue her Master’s of Arts and Lifestyle Journalism at the University of Arts, London College of Communication.

Visions of Kenya

A long time went by before I was able to understand this trip. Sometimes, the present is not understood until it becomes the past. Kenya belongs to a continent of origins, remote and distant, and for now, for better or worse, many of its vast and beautiful rural areas remain far from the globalised world.

In a matter of two weeks I had organised everything. Bought the tickets from Buenos Aires to Mombasa, got the necessary vaccines, packed my things and let my friends know I was leaving. “I’m going to Kenya for a month, alone, just my backpack and camera, nothing else.” It was a long flight to Mombasa. I was very tired and somewhat nervous about it all. At the airport in Mombasa the image of a rhino gave me goosebumps. I had arrived.

— Mombasa —

The first morning I was woken by the heat and the unrelenting racket made by the many crows that inhabit Mombasa. I looked outside the window to see Africa for the first time: bonfire smoke on the sides of the street, women selling fresh fruit right outside our building, next to them, I saw other women with beautiful braids in their hair, and a little further away, a man selling plants. Here, life takes place on the streets.

He was selling onions on the side of the road to Nairobi

I enjoy travelling alone and getting to know different cultures, in the most simple and genuine way possible, simply by being there, and merely observing. Trying not to alter what I see, to be inconspicuous. But in Mombasa, I was noticed right away. I am a white Argentinian, in a city where almost everyone is black. It was impossible to remain unseen.

Sunday morning is a social time for families at the public beach

The first few days were filled with nervousness and anxiety. I was alone in a place completely different to my own, full of tension and expectations about what the trip might become. Was I going to be able to adapt to Africa? I just wanted to let go, come to know the locals, let down my resistance, and give myself up to whatever had to happen.
 

Eddie lives inside a garbage container in Mombasa. The day I left Kenya, I gave Eddie all of my clothes.

Two days went by and I decided it was time to get out of the city. Venturing into the more rural areas of Kenya would be better than staying in Mombasa. Leaving my big backpack behind, I grabbed my camera, my flip flops, swimming trunks, and my kikoy — a traditional man’s wraparound worn on the Swahili coast of East Africa, especially in Kenya. It protected me from the sun and from the stares too. I took a tuk-tuk to the south of town, then a ferry, and then a three-hour matatu — one of Kenya’s colourful buses. My destination was Wasini Island, a small island in the south, where people usually snorkel for a few hours and then leave. I wanted to stay, at least for a few days.

School children on the road from Mombasa to Kilifi / She was sleeping in the matatu along the way.

I was greeted by Abdullah, who was surprised to meet a foreigner who wanted to stay longer than a few hours. I got on a small boat and crossed the island with two guys who were carrying huge machine guns, which they used to absentmindedly scratch their feet and faces — I had never seen such big weapons. 
 

Baobab tree lit up at night

— Wasini —

Wasini is a coral rock island that during its hey-day was a popular summer destination for retired and wealthy Europeans who wanted to enjoy the heat and beaches of Kenya. The day I arrived, there was just one dutchman and me, and the rest of the island was a small fisherman’s village. Abdullah cooked a fish for me with great care, and later made me visit the “tourist attractions,” which meant very little to me.

 

Coral stones in the Indian Ocean

I met someone who said he would take me over to the other side of the island along a path that would pass through the mangroves. I told him I had very little to tip him with, as I had left all my money in Mombasa. He gently insisted on taking me and I followed him. We walked through the island for a long time and I started to worry, thinking about where this stranger was actually taking me. The sun had started to set and as is common in many places in Kenya, there was no electric light.
 

We were crossing the path with this guy, while a fisherman was preparing his bait. I asked to take a picture of him, and he accepted.

We kept on walking until we finally reached the other side of the island. The mangrove trees continued all the way into the sea, and it was a very beautiful sight. I calmly took a breath, my guide had not deceived me. At that moment I felt that if I had managed to get to such a remote place with a complete stranger, then it meant that the rest of my trip would turn out alright. It was a feeling I had. Complete trust.
 

Among the mangroves

— Kilifi —

I spent a few days in Wasini and then returned to Mombasa to continue northwards along the coast, towards Kilifi. In Kilifi there was a very impressive hostel, but when I entered I had the feeling of being out from what I have been seeing. Luckily, I decided to walk towards the beach, where I found a beautiful sunset.
 

Little sisters playing together in a tree near their home.

The beach was deserted. It was actually an estuary, very serene. I loved rural Kenya, so far away from the cities. As I sat with my camera I saw a kid walking in the distance. As he approached me I waved, then he waved back and continued to walk. A few hours later, the kid returned and I went over to have a chat. He responded by asking me if I knew how to hunt crabs. His name was Buda.
 

Portrait of Buda

We became friends and I met all of his brothers and sisters as well. They were many, and lived on the coast with their aunts and cousins. Most families in Kenya live with their extended family, and the women are in charge of the houses. Men are absent most of the time, often spending time with friends, away from their homes.
 

Full of joy in the ocean / Fishermen and family in the early morning

I quickly became very fond of Buda and his siblings, and they became fond of me. Every time I came down to the beach, they would arrive to greet me. I spent whole days on the beach, sometimes helping them gather wood for making fires, or finding things their mother had asked for — I learnt a lot about their culture and way of life, which was not always easy. Buda and Nuzrah were the eldest siblings and spoke better English. They taught me a lot of words in Swahili, their native tongue.
 

Portrait of Nuzrah

One of the days we spent together I brought them a football, a water gun and a jumping rope. We played with them, they taught me beach games, and every now and then we would all go for a swim. It was with great grief that I said goodbye to these children, as I had to continue travelling towards the west of the country. They stayed with me until I left, and their mother also came to say goodbye.
 

Portrait of Buda / Jumping rope / Portrait of Mwanaisha

— Amboselli —

I took a tuk-tuk back to Mombasa, thinking about everything I was experiencing. It felt so powerful and different, making me reflect on my own life, and how grateful I was for the opportunity to travel. The following dayay I left for Amboselli National Park. Enormous and open, there were no fences around it. Animals are not easy to see. You might spend a whole day walking around and only encounter a few zebras.

Morning of the Zebras

But the immensity and beauty of the landscape was truly dazzling to me, sometimes reminding me of my native Patagonia, similarly wild and empty in its own way. I also thought about the devastation humans have caused to the natural environment, and the complex challenges local and international communities face as they attempt to tackle and reverse this.
 

Afternoon of the elephants

I spent my whole childhood fascinated by documentaries on Animal Planet, or Discovery Channel. I could not quite believe I was there, in these vast landscapes. The animals were so big, so strong. They had very little to do with the image I had of elephants in zoos or television. And the trees, they were so magical, I really have no words to describe them.
 

Masai walking in the early morning / Just a beautiful tree, in my first moments in the park

A long time went by before I was able to understand this trip. Sometimes, the present is not understood until it becomes the past. 

When I travel, I seek to explore places that will surprise and challenge me, and from that surprise create beautiful experiences and photographic visions of what I have witnessed. Kenya belongs to a continent of origins, remote and distant, and for now, for better or worse, many of its vast rural areas remain far from the globalised world.
 

Early morning at Tsavo. There is always magic in the first hours of the day.

 

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA.

 

FRAN PROVEDO

Fran Provedo is a photographer and Architect from Argentina. Passionate about nature, and what is invisible in it.