Summer (Fever) Tree -the illusion of homecoming in the Netherlands during a heatwave

Strips of textile have been knotted to the oak tree near the St Walrick ruins in Overasselt (near Nijmegen). Not so long ago, the chapel was the final destination of pilgrimages. Undertaken by the people of the surrounding countryside to pray for the recovery of a sick person, especially feverish relatives. A centuries-old custom following history. Still the oak tree hangs full of patches of bodices of people wishing to be freed from fever.

Hairband in the tree

Saint Walaricus was born in Auvergne in France in the mid-6th century. From an early age, he was attracted to the hermit life. He was known for his care of the sick and through his prayers many were delivered from their fevers. According to legend, in the 10th century, the daughter of a robber chief, a so-called hoeman (hence the name Heumen) was cured by Walaricus. In gratitude, she hung her hair band in the tree.

My visit to Nijmegen, a city with old stories and traces

On a shot Monday in the end of June, I visited Nijmegen. I passed Nijmegen for my Tussenland book tour and had wanted to visit this fever tree for years. I also took a few hours to explore the city. The city itself is worthwhile as you can find traces of history and folklore everywhere. Even a labyrinth next to the river Waal, a river that splits off from Father Rhine. The Meuse, another water spirit, was also close to Nijmegen. During my short exploration of Nijmegen, I was reminded of the famous story of Mariken van Nijmegem who followed the devil to Antwerp, and had a lot of parties there. When she returned to Nijmegen, she did not fare well. The moral of the story is that it’s better to stay in Antwerp ;).

Will she stay or will she go?

Ironic for me, because I was born in Antwerp. From Mid June until mid July 2025, I was in the Low Countries for a full month, and it was mostly very hot. I have since resigned and promised myself a sabbatical of at least six months (October 2025-April 2026). Naturally, I get questions about where I will live. Will I stay in Norway? Do I move back to Belgium? There are also invitations to work on a postdoc in Copenhagen or Amsterdam for a year or two. Many long-term friends and family want me to come back to Belgium. But I am not sure. The summer heat reminds me again to the stories that we will experience a higher frequency of environmental disasters and heatwaves, and something in me is asking which environmental disasters are the less evil for me, to guide me where I should root next.

Leaving Nijmegen for St walric’s fever tree

At Nijmegen’s train station, a bus leaves for St Walric every hour. The ride takes about thirty-forty minutes. I left Nijmegen behind, but I know I will return. This city has a lot of traces which asks for some digging.

Giving eco-anxiety to the tree

That Monday, it was hot again. I am not a big fan of summers, especially since I know that every summer is the coldest summer I experience and it will only get hotter and hotter. I have been suffering from summer fever for several weeks now… I feel the eco-anxiety for all what will be lost.

When I looked at the tree, I feel pain in my body. A summer fever. More. Eco-anxiety, sadness, loneliness, and such a big anger for all the injustice, for all the children that are killed, for all the genocides, for all the ecocides…

Pain bodies and transfering the pain

The practice of giving your pain to a tree reminded me of the nail trees in Belgium and France (see Sacred trees in Belgium: the ‘nail’ trees). I am working back on a next volume in my dryad fiction series, and working out one of the ancient tree spirits which enjoys the pain of getting nails in his/their bark and skin, to cope with the bigger pains of the world, with the pressure on him/them to heal and save the world. A lot of people who see themselves as sustainability actors cope with burnout, depression and anxiety.

Even last week, in Finland, I was in a space with a lot of young adults, with big pain bodies, who want to carry not only their pain, but the pain of so many beings getting killed at the moment. This pain is so huge, and they wanted others, collectives, to help them to process the pain, stop the pain…

Numbing emotions

I feel the pain and it is so overwhelming that I need to numb my emotions, not always with good things, like chocolate, or scrolling on social media. When I was there, in front of the entanglement of ruins and oak trees, I did not feel anything. My receptors were blocked. Maybe it was because of the heat and fatigue from the book tour and other work, but I did not feel enchanted.

Only weeks later, I wish I tied a piece of eco-anxiety and fatigue to this tree and meditate for a long time how we are all in this big pain body, this big hyperobject (to use the words by Timothy Morton)… together. Of course, the pain stays, even if I give it to the fever tree, because I am also part of the fever tree in this bigger system.

But I did not think about it… then. I sat there for a while, waited for some emotions, but they were numbed. Hence, I rested a bit, drunk water from a ceramic cup, took the photos for my Instagram account and this blog, and waited for my dad to pick me up. Perhaps I was a bit disappointed… mostly in myself. My dad also took some photographs of the tree and the ruins. Later, we found a nice old farm (and teahouse), called Eikenhorst, nearby where they served dinner. And then we returned to what we call home. Or one of my homes.

Coming back home in summer – or whatever homecoming means

While I am writing this blogpost, I reflect why I have been thinking so much lately about the Greek myths around Odysseus and Penelope again in recent months, and not just because Christopher Nolan wants to film the Odysseia. As a teenager, I spent years teaching Ancient Greek and translating parts of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey. I loved the texts and translations and all the philosophy back then and was enthusiast about the Troy movie with Brad Pitt which came out in the same time, but now something in me is not happy that Nolan is filming Odysseia and its adventures. Why not Penelope‘s perspective?

And then on a long bus ride in Finland last week, I got reminded by Michael Marder, sitting next to me, yes, the professor known for plant philosophy, that the Odysseia is about homecoming, but that the idea of homecoming is problematic. What is home? All places change. We change. Is there something like a static home? Odysseus might expect to find the same place, situations, the same queen… after twenty years of absence… but does that make sense? I thought that Odysseys was one of the wisest men in Greek mythology, but something does not feel right anymore about idolizing a man who wants to arrive in a place that does not exist anymore. In times of polycrises, everything changes faster. Recently, someone asked where I would like to live, and I said that for the first time, no country or place really attracts me. Like Japan, Norway or Czech Republic at the time. I don’t really feel at home anywhere. I am not like Odysseus anymore, feverish looking to return home, feverish wanting some sort of homecoming.

summer fever, summer sadness

All sound like songs by Lana Del Rey, but only one is. In this period in the Low Countries, I was often reminded of summer, loneliness and lack of feeling at home, especially during my book promotion of Tussenland, which is set mostly in summer (also for a reason). I visit places like the fever tree near Nijmegen and look for traces of a past, I dig and try to take root, but everything around me changes, and I know that the budding Buddhist in me constantly repeats that adaptability is the greatest skill, especially in an everchanging world.

ZEN

A book reviewer who read my book Tussenland remarked in her blogpost that Japanese “ichigo, ichie” passed by in my book, which literally means “one moment, one encounter”, and that means that actually everything is always in flux, that every moment is unique, and that idea in turn is one of the foundations of Zen. Another foundation of zen is the idea that everything is connected. In Tussenland, the characters gradually find out that they do not exist separately from the world around them, but that they are intimately connected to that world and that there is a lot of comfort to be found in that realisation.

Magic is painful and slow

Perhaps I was expecting comfort from the tree and ruins. Perhaps I was expecting a magical or mystical experience. Wisdom on fever trees. But no, I realised again, magic comes in different forms. Magic is not only wonder, but also friction in your soul. Magic can be painful. That is why magic should always come with a price.

I got up and left. And that was it, a moment, an encounter with an oak tree and all the ruins / entanglements. However, weeks later, while writing this blogpost, I understand the reason why I needed to visit this place on a very hot summer day. Sometimes, the magic arrives much later. Magic is not instant gratification, it is all about slowness…