In Part 1, Robert Macfarlane embarks on a journey to the cloud-forests of northern Ecuador to explore fundamental questions about whether rivers and forests are alive. His expedition centers on Los Cedros, a threatened cloud-forest that became the focus of a groundbreaking legal case establishing rights of nature in constitutional law.

Macfarlane traveled with three companions, each of whom brought their distinct expertise to their mission. César Rodriguez-Garavito, a Colombian lawyer dedicated to social justice, spent years fighting for both indigenous rights and the rights of nature across the Trans-Amazonian region. Cosmo Sheldrake, a versatile musician and field recordist, sought to capture the acoustic landscape of the forest. Giuliana Furci, a mycologist specializing in Chilean fungi, hoped to locate previously undiscovered mushroom species that could strengthen legal protections for Los Cedros.

The group’s destination was a remote area of primary cloud-forest accessible only by foot or mule. Their journey began in Quito, where Macfarlane experienced altitude sickness, then proceeded through Ecuador’s mountainous terrain to reach the forest’s edge. The physical challenges of reaching Los Cedros—steep muddy trails, heavy equipment, and difficult terrain—underscored the forest’s remoteness and vulnerability.

The chapter provides historical context for understanding Los Cedros’s significance. In 2008, Ecuador became the first country in the world to enshrine Rights of Nature in its constitution. This revolutionary development emerged from the presidency of Rafael Correa and the work of a constitutional assembly that included significant input from Indigenous communities. The constitutional process was deeply influenced by indigenous concepts, particularly the Quechua notion of “sumak kawsay” (good living), which recognizes all beings in nature as living entities deserving respect. Eduardo Galeano, a Uruguayan writer, contributed an influential essay arguing that while society readily accepts corporations as having rights comparable to humans, it finds the idea of rivers and forests having rights strange and unacceptable. The constitutional articles establishing rights of nature were passed after Indigenous leaders and shamans from 14 different nations conducted purification ceremonies at the assembly building. They arranged clay vessels representing earth, air, fire, and water as witnesses to the proceedings, and shamans took ayahuasca to summon the spirit of Pachamama (Mother Earth) into the voting chamber.

Macfarlane provides detailed descriptions of cloud-forest ecology to illustrate why these environments are both precious and fragile. Cloud-forests form at high altitudes where humid air creates persistent mist, reducing sunlight and retaining moisture within the forest system. This creates conditions for extraordinary biodiversity, with Los Cedros containing species densities that rival any ecosystem on Earth. The forest functions as a “water forest,” where epiphytes (plants growing on other plants) collect moisture from mist through a process called “fog-drop.” This gentle, constant water production maintains river flow even during dry periods, demonstrating the intimate connection between forest and river systems. The loss of cloud-forest directly leads to the death of rivers, as deforestation eliminates the mist-collection system that feeds waterways.

The chapter reveals how Los Cedros faced existential threat from mining interests. In 2017, the Rainforest Information Centre discovered that the Ecuadorian government had secretly granted mining concessions covering much of the forest to foreign companies, including Canadian firm Cornerstone Capital Resources. These concessions were part of a broader pattern of environmental exploitation driven by Ecuador’s economic desperation. The country’s financial crisis, worsened by falling oil prices and crushing sovereign debt, led then-President Correa to approve numerous mining concessions in sensitive areas. The proposed mining would have involved open-pit extraction requiring complete deforestation, road construction, and the use of toxic chemicals like sodium cyanide for gold extraction. This process would have destroyed both the forest ecosystem and poisoned the rivers flowing from it.

The chapter’s climax describes how constitutional law was successfully deployed to protect Los Cedros. Josef DeCoux, an American expatriate who had lived in the forest for decades as its unofficial guardian, brought a Rights of Nature case against the mining companies. The case was heard by Constitutional Court judges Agustín Grijalva Jiménez and Ramiro Ávila Santamaría. In November 2021, the court ruled that mining would violate Los Cedros’s constitutional rights to exist, regenerate, and maintain its natural cycles. The judges found that both the Rights of Nature and human rights to clean water and a healthy environment would be violated by mining activities. This decision forced the mining companies to cease operations and leave the area, creating what Macfarlane describes as a protective force field around the forest.

The expedition’s scientific mission focused on Giuliana’s search for two previously collected but unconfirmed mushroom species. Her remarkable ability to locate fungi through what she calls “the fuzz in the matrix” (51)—an intuitive sense of fungal presence—led to successful collection of specimens that would strengthen Los Cedros’s legal protections as habitat for unique species.

Macfarlane’s encounters with the forest reveal its overwhelming complexity and aliveness. He describes the constant activity of decomposition and regeneration, the intricate relationships between species, and the sensory overload of an ecosystem where hundreds of life forms interact continuously. Throughout the chapter, Macfarlane grapples with fundamental questions about the nature of life and consciousness in natural systems. He explores how Indigenous worldviews that recognize forests and rivers as living, conscious beings challenge Western mechanistic approaches to nature. The concept of “sylvan thinking” (97)—the idea that forests possess forms of intelligence and communication—emerges through encounters with mycorrhizal networks and the forest’s complex ecological relationships. The chapter also examines what it means to grant legal personhood to natural entities like rivers and forests. While celebrating the legal victory at Los Cedros, Macfarlane acknowledges the challenges of translating ecological relationships into legal frameworks designed for human societies.

Macfarlane situates the Los Cedros story within broader patterns of environmental destruction and resistance. He references the concept of the “Eremocene”—the age of loneliness—describing a potential future where humans exist isolated on a planet stripped of other forms of life. The success at Los Cedros represents a counter-narrative to this trajectory, demonstrating how law, science, and Indigenous wisdom can work together to protect threatened ecosystems. The chapter concludes with Macfarlane’s return to England, where he found the springs near his home showing signs of life after drought, and discovered that local people had begun treating them as sacred sites by tying healing cloths to nearby trees.