Anthropomorphism, or what many readers might call anthropomorphism, is a motif in the book. In Chapter 2, for example, Kimmerer describes how pecan trees go for long periods without producing many nuts before "mast fruiting" events, when all the trees suddenly produce pecans in overwhelming numbers. These mast fruiting events usually coincide with years when the squirrel population is sparse, and Kimmerer imagines that the trees consult with each other on this point:
You can imagine the trees whispering to each other at this point, “There are just a few squirrels left. Wouldn’t this be a good time to make some nuts?” All across the landscape, out come the pecan flowers poised to become a bumper crop again. Together, the trees survive, and thrive.
In dominant North American culture, "whispering" and language are typically reserved for humans. Trees, on the other hand, typically fall under the category of inanimate objects. Trees might sound like they are whispering when the wind blows through their leaves, but we don't usually believe that they are really speaking. It is fairly common for writers to personify trees with verbs like "whispering" to help set a scene. But what Kimmerer does here goes beyond figurative personification. As she goes on to explain later in the chapter, trees really do have communication networks that humans are only beginning to understand. When she writes that the trees whisper to each other, she means that they may in fact be passing around the message that it is time for a mast fruiting.
Trees that come alive and speak to one another are technically an example of anthropomorphism. They are nonhuman creatures that act like humans. However, in this and other instances of "anthropomorphism," Kimmerer is in fact asking the reader to challenge the idea that humans are the yardstick for animacy. She uses the device of anthropomorphism to help readers consider the idea that humans are part of a much broader community of sentient, living beings.