The tale of Buile Suibhne or “Mad Sweeney” was written down in the earliest days of Irish literacy. A king is driven mad by a cleric’s curse and the clamor of battle; he takes to the wild where he lives as a bird high up in trees. In this tortured existence, the exiled king is both crazed and inspired. Some of the finest Gaelic nature poetry was composed by Sweeney. Brendan MacOdrum asks whether this tale of transformation in the trees can still provide a healing canopy in a time of political delirium and climate catastrophe.