Hello. My name is Linda…and I’m a tree hugger.
They (whoever ‘they’ are) say that in order to recover, you must first admit you have a problem.
My problem is: I want to cry every time I hear the buzz of a chain saw ripping into an innocent tree.
I know. I know…it is not safe to ignore trees who may appear lovely from the exterior, but whose interior may be full of rot, and therefore a danger, if Mother Nature decides to kick up a storm.
But, surely there is a gentler way to bid farewell to a natural wonder which has given years of shade from a sweltering sun, whose roots gripped the earth and held erosion at bay, and whose branches were home to a variety of birds. If squirrels could speak (our language), I’m sure they would beg that their playground not be destroyed in such a violent way.
And yet, I hear the grinding, buzzing, ripping taking place down the street, and I find myself once again, tearing up over the tearing down.
All at once, I am reminded of one of the advantages of living in a town designated as:
“Tree City USA”
. . . a new sapling will be put in its place very soon.
To everything there is a season.
True for trees.
True for humanity.
Now, go hug a tree while you can.