The great grandpa tree has been felled... In it's place now lies earth that has been dug out and mounds of wet mud scattered around. Scraps of wood clutter the path where the grass had been. The whole park seems to be in mourning; the squirrels must sorely miss their giant wooded play ground with it's sculpted trunk and serpentine branches, thick and strong, and the foliage dense and inviting; the dogs haven't come out to play, the birds haven't chirped as much. Perhaps it is all in my imagination? It must not be. The emptiness cries out aloud as I turn the corners of the library on my evening walk, I have to force myself to look away and content myself with the other trees, some younger, just beginning to establish themselves into the ground around the periphery of the park, and others a little older, their leaves downcast and sorrowful; the torchbearers for future generations of children to shade themselves under, birds to teasingly chase scampering squirrels down from and for wisdom to provide to the tender little grass-lings swaying gently in the wind.
No, there shan't be that waft of eucalyptus to tingle my senses with the breeze. There will no longer be the live mural behind the windows of the library in the children's corner. The sunlight streaming in now, unobstructed, seems a harsh reminder of what we've lost. A monument that endured for a century despite what killed it from within, an atrocity we wreaked on it. Yet forgiving and ever gracious, it stood by and smiled upon us gently. Just like a grandparent does a mischievous grandchild...
Dear, dear great grandpa tree, we miss you!
The Great Indian Dream
2 years ago
3 comments:
Your nostalgia about the felling of this grandfather tree reminds of how I felt when a field I dearly loved was cleared at the end of the summer of 2006. It was a field radiant with a number of old eucalyptus trees; squirrels constantly scampered about and wild flowers dotted the landscape with splashes of color. I used to bike through this field every day on my way to/from campus while I was attending Stanford. Towards the end of that summer (and the end of my program), this field became a big pile of dirt that got moved around (presumably something is now being built there, or has already been constructed). I still mourn its loss.
I know exactly what you mean! It's so sad that progress and expansion is often accompanied by destruction of the simple delights of nature. I can still cannot believe the lovely field opposite Vaden (on campus) is gone and there are monstrous buildings in its place now...sigh!
the lovely field opposite vaden is back - or at least, most of it...
I remember a tree in high school, which was dear to generations of students. It used to be just outside the canteen, and was somehow very special - people used to climb it all the time, and it had been around for many years. And then one day, after i had graduated from school, they felled it, in order to expand the canteen building... I believe there were a lot of protests, both from students and alumni... But of course, who pays attention to sentiment in the face of material progress and expansion... :)
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