Each tree can suck up hundreds of gallons of water every day, but will only use a small amount. The rest goes back into the atmosphere as water vapour released through tiny pores on the leaves.

Winds blow the vapour out across the canopy, collecting more and more moisture as they go. This saturated air is carried deep into the forest, where it falls again as rain. New trees suck up the rainwater and so the cycle continues... The forest acts as a kind of giant conveyor belt, a sort of huge Mexican wave of moisture travelling right across a continent.

Half of all rainwater that falls here in the Amazon is produced by the trees themselves. The scale of the system is simply staggering, this forest is so big it creates its own climate. Winds from the Atlantic ocean blow the water vapour westward, right across the Amazon basin, finally pushing it up against the mountainside.

A single droplet of water can take an incredible trip. It might be recycled through dozens of different trees and downpours, and travel more than 3,000 km before it reaches the mountains of the Andes. Eventually, rain falls and the whole water story begins again.

Jungle beaches are war zones - scene of a raging battle between the river and the forest. Tessauria plants are in the front line in the fight to claim back new territory. They're like paratroopers, invading as airborne seeds during the dry season when the river enemy is weakest. This is their chance to entrench their position.

Next, reinforcements arrive - massed ranks of cane like infantry which help to consolidate the position. Behind them are the heavy guns, cecropia trees. Each wave of plants creates the right conditions for the next to germinate and grow until, finally, the jungle wins the battle.

But nothing stays the same... the waterways constantly redesign the jungle tapestry, meandering in giant loops across the floodplain. Rather than leaving behind a trail of destruction, they create tranquil lakes. 'Oxbow' lakes are really stranded river bends, left behind when the main river cuts through the neck of an old loop.

And even these lakes won't last forever. Swamp palms often mark the old location of a dried up oxbow lake. Like all rainforest plants, the palms fight hard for a space to grow in and the shallow lake edges are a soft target for invasion. Slowly but surely new plants move in, turning the jungle into a swamp dominated by dense bands of palms. Once more, the forest is taking over.

As soon as the first rays of light stream through, there is an explosion of plant life. Specialised sprinters begin to fill the gap. But this is no scramble it's an organised take-over. Although they are first on the scene, the sprinters time in the sun is short-lived. In just a few months bushes and shrubs take their place to dominate the clearing. Then pioneer trees get a growth spurt and within a few years overshadow them to bathe in the sunlight.

But the ultimate winner is a tiny mahogany sapling. It may be slower than the others, but these trees are in for the long haul. It can take a century of growth, but in time, the mahogany will overshadow all the other trees and the gap will finally be filled.

But light alone can't build a forest. 90% of the nutrients in a rainforest are trapped in the enormous canopy trees. It takes the death of a tree to bring these nutrients crashing into the underworld. When they arrive, a dedicated army of recyclers is poised ready to get at every morsel of goodness.

Secret hordes of micro-bugs, none larger than a grain of sand, staff the underworld. Helped by the tropical heat and humidity, they recycle the jungle's cast-offs into ever smaller pieces. At the end of the production line are the biggest rotters of all - the jungle's amazing array of fungi. Crucial members of the team, the fungi can break down materials that nothing else can cope with. But fungi are not just rotters, the entire jungle depends on them in another way.

Underground a tangle of tree roots spans out to gather nutrients for the enormous structures above. But they can't manage alone, so they link up with a network of special fungi called mycorrhizae. These soak up all the goodness in the soil and deliver it back through the roots to the trees.