There is a moment — and if you have ever stood at the base of an ancient tree, you will know it — when the noise of the world simply stops. The tree does not ask anything of you. It does not hurry. It simply stands, rooted and vast, offering something no amount of luxury amenities can replicate: the quiet, cellular reminder that you are part of something alive.
Science is catching up with intuition. Forest bathing has been studied extensively, with researchers documenting measurable reductions in cortisol and blood pressure among those who spend time among trees. The airborne compounds released by trees boost immune function and elevate mood. The gentle movement of a structure suspended in the canopy activates the parasympathetic nervous system in ways that mirror the rocking motion that soothes us from the very first days of our lives. The trees are not passive backdrops. They are active participants in our healing.
The world’s most visionary wellness destinations are waking up to this truth — and treehouses are becoming the most coveted rooms on the property. Not novelties, but sanctuaries.
Danie Ash l is an architect with Nelson Treehouse, who left the world of high-rises to answer a quieter, more essential calling: designing treehouses that transcend playfulness and arrive at something genuinely profound. What follows is a conversation rooted in the belief that the most powerful sanctuaries are the ones that grow.
Interview by Frank Roller, Places of Healing
POH–Frank: Coming from a background in large-scale projects like high-rises and urban developments, what inspired you to shift toward a more intimate, nature-integrated form of building? Did it feel like a return to something more essential?
Daniel: The world of high-rise and mid-rise has a lot to be enthusiastic about. The projects are in the public realm, visible, and have an impact on many people’s daily lives. There is also a great deal to enjoy about the design challenges. The people who work on them are often very skilled, and there is a clear path to personal growth. However, that world can be a bit slow moving — and more importantly, at that scale, I noticed that as the architect it was almost impossible to have any sort of meaningful relationship with the people doing the physical craft of building. I think that the best architecture, and the architecture I enjoy practicing, comes from a place of practicality and problem solving between designer and builder.
I had been venting about my dissatisfaction in this regard to my friend Daryl, whom I had met during my treehouse internship and was leading the construction management aspect of the treehouse business. He told me that the treehouse industry had come a long way since I was an intern and was starting to get to a place where I could apply some of my skillsets. Specifically, it was growing to the point where there was the opportunity to pursue non-residential clients, and the projects were more ambitious regarding their design and coordination. On top of that, the company had transformed itself into a much more well-oiled machine with lots of extremely talented and intrepid carpenters. I saw this as an opportunity to engage with a different sort of clientele than the high-rise and mid-rise developers I had been working with — and to re-engage with my outdoorsy construction roots.
POH–Frank: Treehouses seem to hold a deep emotional and almost archetypal pull — why do you think they resonate so strongly with people, even in adulthood? Is this purely nostalgia, or is there something more instinctive, almost primal, in our desire to live among the trees?
Daniel: I have been more and more interested in this question the longer I work in this industry. I think a lot of people use the term “treehouse” as an antidote to the often sterile and sharp-edged spaces that dominate our daily lives. For many people, the definition stops there. But I think for some there is more to it — especially speaking for myself. I think the act of leaving the ground is very meaningful. People have a desire to be comfortable, for sure, but most people do not want to be comfortable at the expense of the environment. Being in a structure that can provide comfort while simultaneously showing respect to the environment in which it exists is a powerful draw for many, even if they don’t consciously acknowledge it. I also want to speculate that our love for treehouses has something to do with our species formerly being forest dwellers — but that is outside my field of expertise.
POH–Frank: How does the simple act of being elevated into the canopy — closer to light, wind, and movement — change the way people feel internally? Do you see shifts in perspective, calmness, or awareness?
Daniel: Human life moves very quickly and can feel quite chaotic. There is a perception — that has some truth to it, I believe — that a forest moves much more slowly and with a more harmonious, natural rhythm. I think engaging with a forest can feel very nutritive and restorative in certain ways. Wanting to get to a place where you can take a deep breath and know that your breath will be good for you is a powerful draw. Treehouses represent that draw. Knowing that the trees can provide a tempering effect from the undiluted sun, wind, and rain is also a powerful draw.
POH–Frank: When someone chooses to stay in a treehouse, what are they truly seeking on a deeper level? Is it escape, reconnection, a sense of wonder — or perhaps something more subtle, like safety or perspective?
Daniel: I think in a broad sense, a lot of people travel for different reasons — romance being a big one — and treehouses are one of the ideal forms of romance. I think this helps explain why they seem to earn such a premium in the travel and hospitality industry. A small intimate space, designed for a small number of people to experience a specific environment, with all the different sensational qualities — movement, light quality, forest aroma. I think some of the draw also gets back to the idea that a treehouse is an antithesis of conventional architecture. By advertising something as a “treehouse,” you are defining it by what it is not: you are telling guests that it won’t be sterile and logical like a normal space. It will be capricious, light, romantic, adventurous, and whimsical in all the ways that most structures cannot be. It is an adventure contained within a structure.
POH–Frank: Have you noticed a shift in recent years, where treehouses are no longer just playful escapes but are becoming intentional spaces for wellness, reflection, and even transformation?
Daniel: I think this aspect of treehouses is still in its infancy. Some people recognize the connection between the principles of a treehouse and the philosophy of wellness, but not many people are saying it out loud yet. There are a few who are asking for it outright, but not as many as you would think. It is one of the aspects of this industry that is so exciting right now. I look forward to seeing this develop further.
POH–Frank: Designing with a living tree introduces an entirely different relationship than working with static materials — how do you approach the process of “listening” to the tree when selecting a site and developing a design?
Daniel: Trees are living structural systems and each one is unique. It has been said that if you know what to look for, each tree will tell you the story of its life by the subtle differences in its unique appearance. In many cases it can also tell you the story of the forest around it — what types of events have transformed it, when they happened, how certain environmental factors have changed over time, what types of fauna it can support. In many cases these relationships are intuitive and logical, even if they might take some practice to notice. It is often these broader clues that lead us to the specific trees we think would be ideal. Each microcosm has subtle differences, not only in the species present but also in pest and blight risks. We almost always consult with a local arborist prior to installing any hardware.
POH–Frank: Do you ever feel that certain trees almost invite or resist being built around? How intuitive does this process become over time?
Daniel: Absolutely. Many trees are simply not healthy enough to be used, or are in a position where they are at greater risk than others — trees on the edge of a recently cleared lot in a windy environment are at a much greater risk of toppling due to wind than they were prior to having their neighbors cut down, for example. Some trees are very inviting too. Not every species provides this opportunity, but I find trees that offer a horizontal limb I can use as a seat to be particularly inviting.
POH–Frank: How do you balance the human desire to inhabit these spaces with a deep responsibility to protect the long-term health and integrity of the tree itself?
Daniel: There is an old Frank Lloyd Wright maxim that says if you buy a property with a beautiful hill on it, you should never build your house on the hill, but should rather build your house facing the hill. I tell clients this a lot. I don’t want to put a treehouse in the matriarch of the forest. I want to find some good healthy trees that provide character for the occupants — but not at the expense of the best tree in the area or the environment as a whole.
There is also a very long list of reasons that an environment might not be suitable for a treehouse. Sometimes the whole forest is recovering from a recent shock — drought, or a recent ground disturbance — which might mean the trees simply need time to recover before they can support a heavy structure. The unfortunate fact is that some trees, and some environments, can support a treehouse and some cannot. In a significant number of cases, the best we can do is to provide a space “amongst” the trees, but not necessarily touching them. We do these types of structures a lot, and they can still provide all of the qualities one looks for in a treehouse if they are done carefully.
POH–Frank: In practices like forest bathing, trees are seen as active contributors to human healing — do you believe that living or staying in a treehouse amplifies this effect on a physical, emotional, or even energetic level?
Daniel: If done right, then yes — I believe it can. If we can find a situation where we can place the treehouse in a lush position within the forest, and if the structure can provide a comfortable enough setting within the environment, then that goes a long way. With the design work we work hard to blur the line between indoor and outdoor, and I think that when we are most successful at that, we bring more of that wonderfully nutritive energy to the interior of the space — and that goes a long way.
POH–Frank: Have you personally experienced moments where being in or around a treehouse felt profoundly calming, grounding, or even transformative? Can you share one of those experiences?
Daniel: Sort of. Honestly, at this point 99% of my experience in treehouses is work-related, so that unfortunately removes my ability to relax. I will incessantly be looking at details and over-analyzing everything, which is the nature of being an enthusiastic designer, I suppose. However, I do have very fond memories from my childhood. I constructed a number of tree-fort structures in my yard and in the semi-forested area behind our house, and those memories provide the calming serenity that I draw upon in my work. I once climbed up a maple tree in our yard on one of the few nice days of the year — it was in South Texas, and “nice days” can be hard to come by. I wedged myself purposefully among a few branches way up near the top, maybe 25 to 30 feet above the ground, so I could be as safe and snug as I could, and then fell asleep for a short while, just to see what it felt like. It was wildly dangerous and I do not recommend anyone try that — but fortunately I survived, and it was everything I hoped it would be. I don’t know that it was worth the risk, but it was a memorable moment from my childhood.
POH–Frank: You once described your dream treehouse as something that looks like it was “built by a giant bird” — can you expand on this idea of organic, nest-like architecture? Is there something deeply human about wanting to create a “nest” in nature?
Daniel: I think one of the characteristics of good design is being able to understand what something is for just by looking at it — a legibility to its purpose that tells you not just what it was created for but also how to use it. I really like architecture with that quality. One of the keys to that in my line of work is to apply a very human scale to the structure. Having a human proportion really lets you feel like the architecture was created just for you — even that it cares for you. There is also an element of materials. In a perfect world I would be able to gather everything I need for a treehouse from the surrounding forest: beams made out of fallen logs, roofing out of fallen leaves. There are many creatures — bower birds are a good example — that build exceptional structures perfectly tailored to their purposes, from materials found in the immediate vicinity. I aspire to create structures with that level of resourcefulness, scale, and legibility.
POH–Frank: How important is it for you to use local or reclaimed materials, and do you feel that this strengthens the energetic connection between the structure and its surroundings?
Daniel: Material is so important in architecture, and treehouses are no exception. Nearly every environment around the world has some history of people using its materials for structural purposes. Local materials can do a lot to enhance the feeling of authenticity within a given environment — particularly with natural materials, which often have an ability to stand up to local climatic conditions in ways that can be hard to replicate with a foreign material.
The desire to use reclaimed materials comes from a couple of different motivations. One primary reason is that using reclaimed material means you don’t need to extract new raw material from the environment — sometimes that means you can spare a tree, or some mining, or some other extractive process somewhere else. It is not always as easy as we want it to be, but it always seems like the right thing to do when we have the opportunity. Another primary reason is that reclaimed materials very often have a character that might not be possible — or easily affordable — with new material. I work with a lot of wood, and this is particularly true of wood: older wood is often a much higher quality than off-the-shelf new wood. Not just in appearance, but in durability.
POH–Frank: Would you say that building treehouses is, in a way, a modern ritual — humans returning to a more instinctive, harmonious way of creating shelter?
Daniel: I think this question is a bit outside my field of expertise, but I will say that the desire to build treehouses seems to be universal in a way I cannot easily explain without calling it innate or instinctive. Whether the treehouse is serious or silly, ambitious or casual, fun or eminently practical, they seem to make so many people happy in so many ways. I think a lot of the appeal is in the idea of a treehouse being an “anti-building” — a revolt against the sanitized, soulless structures that have done so much to remove the idea of nature from our lives. Or maybe we could define a treehouse by the child-like joy that it brings people. I think that might be a more wholesome way to think about it.
POH–Frank: Treehouses often feel like a hybrid between shelter and sanctuary — do you see them as a kind of modern “nest” for humans seeking safety, perspective, and reconnection?
Daniel: I absolutely see treehouses this way. I love the term sanctuary — it has such strong connotations with safety and spirituality, and that is absolutely what I hope the treehouses can be. I want to emphasize the term shelter as well. Even though we try to blur the lines between outside and inside with our projects, there is always the imperative to keep the elements out and shield the occupant as much as is necessary. Forests can be particularly harsh environments without shelter — particularly in the perennially damp forests of the Pacific Northwest. Finding shelter from those elements while still being in their immediate proximity is the best combination.
POH–Frank: Do you feel that people who are drawn to treehouses share a certain mindset — perhaps a deeper longing for simplicity, nature, or emotional grounding?
Daniel: I don’t know that I would go as far as saying that everyone who desires a treehouse shares a mindset per se. The desire itself is present in too many people to be explained by a similar mindset alone. It might be counterintuitive, but a lot of the projects we do have an element of pragmatism that would surprise some people. There are plenty of cases where a treehouse is simply an elegant solution to a problem.
One of the projects we did a few years back was for a bird sanctuary located in rural Ohio. The organization — a fantastic non-profit run by wonderfully resourceful people — was situated on a very large plot of land, the majority of which was mandated to remain forest due to a conservation covenant. The bird sanctuary had run out of buildable land but desperately needed a classroom space for frequent student field trips. Building a treehouse within the forest was a way to provide much-needed space while keeping the forest intact. I am certain they felt the same giddy nostalgic joy about treehouses as well, but the real desire was borne of a different mindset. I love working with people who want to connect with the environment in a meaningful way — but I also love the opportunity to use a treehouse to solve a problem.
POH–Frank: Looking ahead, how do you envision the role of treehouses evolving? Could they become a meaningful part of the future of wellness travel — or even a new model for how we live more harmoniously with nature?
Daniel: I am so biased, but I think there is SO MUCH growth potential for the role of treehouses. Right now a lot of people see what I do as creating glorified garden follies. There is a place for that certainly, but I think many people are missing the pragmatic side. The destination resort and wellness travel industry is starting to take a lot of notice, and I expect to do a great deal of future work in that sector. The benefits there are well covered in this interview.
But I would also like to see treehouses used as more pragmatic solutions more broadly. It can feel like our whole world is getting paved over sometimes — but honestly, if you look at a satellite image, there is still lots and lots of forest around the world, and the idea that it is worth preserving is starting to become much more universal. The ability to have buildings and also have forest — and get all the benefits we have talked about? There is a geyser of opportunity there. It won’t occur to everyone tomorrow, but I think people will get there.
POH–Frank: What is the current status of the Treehouse Resort and Spa, and how do you see that concept coming to life in the future?
Daniel: This is such a funny way to end this list of excellent questions — because unfortunately, this project will not exist, at least not in the way we designed it. Treehouse Resort and Spa was a development a little ways outside of Seattle on a magnificent 23-acre parcel containing both grassland and dense, healthy, native Pacific Northwest forest. It was a passion project for so many of us at Nelson Treehouse, and a great evolution from the existing bed and breakfast we created nearby, Treehouse Point. The project encapsulated so many of the principles we hold dear — it maximized the opportunities given by the land, it was a good steward of the trees, it provided a variety of healthy and natural accommodations, and was a showcase of what Pacific Northwest architecture could be.
Unfortunately, the parcel was located in one of the most difficult jurisdictions to build in that we have ever encountered, and we could not find a way through the land use permitting process. The reasons are as complicated as they are frustrating. In order to provide vehicular access to the site, an existing driveway would have had to be widened — but the driveway had old farmland on either side classified as wetland, and the jurisdiction would not permit the widening. That is the reality sometimes. We tried very hard, but could not move forward. It is a great example of why having those conversations with land use jurisdictions at the very beginning of a project are so important.
I would love to create a version of this project somewhere else someday. But unfortunately, it will have to be somewhere else.
POH-Frank: Thank you for your time – I can’t wait to live in a treehouse by myself
photo credit: Nelson Treehouse
