On the way to my porcelain
painting class this morning, my journey took me past the Peoples Park. The morning was unseasonably warm and sunny
so I decided to walk by the river and enjoy the trees in their autumnal
foliage. As I passed by a very large and
impressive specimen, I stopped to marvel at its age and history. Since my mother’s family were from this side
of the river, I began to imagine my grandfather playing in this park as a
boy. As I examined each tree, I decided
that perhaps my great-grandfather might have played here also, and who knows
how many greats before him.
I spent a pleasant half hour
engrossed in my imaginings. I wondered
at the different lifestyle of my fore-fathers.
The hand to mouth existence, of poor working class people, in those hard
times; would not have enabled my aunts and uncles to indulge in hobbies such as
art or adult learning. I am not a
wealthy person myself, but I am able to pursue a pleasant retirement, thanks to
local community backed schemes, enabling older people to take classes in almost
any subject at very reasonable rates.
These trees would tell such
stories if only they could speak; indeed they themselves are living
history. I have always felt sad at the
death of a tree. No reason except danger
to the public or buildings should be enough to kill a tree. I have heard people say, cut down that tree
it’s a dreadful eyesore. Why should that
be a reason to kill a living tree? Next
step would be to kill off all the ugly people among us.
As I continued walking with my
ghosts, I considered the rainforests and their importance to our planet. There are people willing to destroy these for
the sake of a quick buck. How anyone
with children and grandchildren can even consider this is beyond me. We depend on these forests; they are the
life-blood of our planet. As I watch
documentaries about the magical eco-system in these rainforests I marvel that
someone somewhere is thinking of destroying it for the sake of a couple of
seasons crops, or just for the timber.
These forests have seen the dawn of history and should be allowed to
fulfil their lifecycle, however long or short it is. I sigh for the death of a tree, but I cry for
the death of a rainforest. In fact we
might all die, because of the death of enough rainforests.