Okay, so I found something really weird, and immediately felt the need to research it. Apparently, there’s a tree — a real, actual tree, not one from a fantasy book — that is allegedly able to walk. Like, take itself and move somewhere else. It’s called the “Walking Palm,” or for you cool kids at the party, Socratea exorrhiza. Yeah, it sounds a little like a spell, but it’s real, and it’s only found in Central and South America’s rainforest.
So, when I first heard about it, I imagined some weirdly creepy Ent-type thing moving at a half inch a year through the jungle, possibly in pursuit of hikers. (SPOILER: It doesn’t.) But the whole “walking” part? That part is so interesting.
So what does this tree actually do?
The short answer: it doesn’t walk. Not really. But it does something almost just as weird. It has long, spindly roots that grow in all directions, kind of like stilts, shooting out the base of the trunk. If you think of a tripod with roots, you’ve surely got the right idea. The roots actually lateral and upward out of the soil, and then curve downward again — almost like legs of a spider — and over time, the tree is able to begin leaning different directions, because of the growing roots! It’s not really sprinting through the jungle, but a tree can slowly move its trunk a couple of inches over a few months or years. Usually toward sunlight. It’s more “inching away from a bad spot” than actual locomotion, but hey — if a tree can learn to move a little, we can’t say that we expected even that from a tree.
Why would a tree need to move at all?
In the rainforest, it turns out sunlight is like a really vicious race to the death. The canopy is thick, the understory is thick, the race is on for the same rays. So when something dies or a gap opens up, the Walking Palm kind of… leans into it. It shifts its center of gravity toward the light by developing new roots on the bright side, and letting the ones on the shady side decay away. Survival move — not an adventurer.
With a little bit of distance, it’s sort of like a really slow pivot. And, eventually, yes, that pivot does add up to a couple of feet. Which is enough for someone to look at a tree and say, “Wait, was that always there?”
Where do these crazy trees live?
They’re from the tropical rainforests of Central and South America — think Panama, Colombia, Ecuador, Costa Rica. The zone is ideal for this type of kind of slow-moving root shuffle: wet, humid, warm, and overrun with thick, competitive vegetation. This jungle is literally a tough neighborhood and this tree figured out how to survive.
And, not to be too sincere or anything, but these types of curiosities are a great reminder of how absurdly clever nature can be. A tree that moves so it isn’t outcompeted by its neighbors? That’s the kind of quiet genius you find yourself pausing and re-evaluating how “boring” plants really are.
So… can I say it walks?
Not exactly, as it doesn’t have legs, and it’s not exactly moving fast. I think most scientists would agree that the term “walking tree” might be a bit of a stretch, and even bordering on exaggeration. Anyway, the rate at which it “moves” is difficult to measure, and not everyone agrees that it is as dramatic as advertised.
Still, I’m a sucker for quirky things. The whole idea that a plant could actually “inch” its way over time toward a better patch of light — and not with muscles or nerves, more just through slow-growth gradual rooting strategy — is weirdly mind-bending in its understated way.
And look, walking or just wobbling toward a sunnier patch of rainforest, the Walking Palm is a good reminder that plants don’t actually sit there and always grow. There is, literally, a lot going on under the surface and maybe we underestimate what they’re capable of.
So, the next time you hear someone say that plants just sit there and grow, remind them about Socratea exorrhiza and then break the news gently to them that no, it is not chasing hikers through the jungle. Probably.
Bonus weird behavior? I think some of them “cry” when they are stressed. Apparently, nature is more dramatic than we think.