I Speak for the Trees!!

The Lorax has been my favourite story for as long as I can remember. Maybe it's because it was published the same year I was born and it probably was read to me a lot as a child.  Who knows.  It just has always resonated with me.  And any time I see a tree chopped down, that is not sick or dead, or does not pose a danger to anyone or anything, I feel sick.

We once had a friend come to our place and hack down a couple of trees that were cutting out the light for some of the healthier trees... and he accidentally cut the wrong one.  I was so mad I couldn't speak to him for ages!  Then sold that house and we moved next door.  A few years went by and my then-three year old daughter had a hankering for apricots and I remembered there was a beautiful tree next door, where we used to live.  We went over to ask the neighbors if we could pick a few, and were told they cut it down because they never ate the fruit.  That tree must have been at least 20 years old.  It still makes me sad.

We like trees.  We planted so many trees at our old place that we attained "farm status" as a tree farm.  (We saved a heap on taxes).    We stuck cuttings of willows and cedars in pots and watered and tended them until they grew into baby trees and then we planted them too.  We lined the driveway with willows and evergreens.  We planted a living wall of cedars and pussywillows so we would have a little privacy from the neighbors (and they, us).

So when I came home today and saw the neighbors laughing as they took the chainsaw to 2 of the willows we planted over 10 years ago, I felt sick.  I couldn't even ask them why they would do that because I doubted I could keep the emotion out of my voice.  And so I sit here, sad, thinking of the trees that they seem to be hacking as fast as they please, and hoping they leave the rest of them alone.