Ceci n'est pas un arbre
2007 03 02
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Why are they chopping down the tree outside my windows? I woke up this morning to the haunting melody of chainsaws less than ten feet from my noggin; all that separated me from it was a corner of comforter and the window glass.
I like trees, big trees, little trees, lots of trees. There's something truly disturbing about a residential neighbourhood that's flatter than a pancake, decorated only with houses, telephone poles, street signs, and strip malls. Trees add character, they add comforting enclosure, they look nice! Each and every spring since I've moved into this building I look forward to the greenery outside the windows of my bathroom and bedroom. The branches spread out enough to conceal both, and there's always been a refreshing cocooning feeling about the light that comes through the window.
And they're taking that cocoon potential away chunk by chunk, branch by branch.
At first I thought they were just trimming back a few branches, but they've chopped so much off it that it barely qualifies as tree anymore; merely trunk with emaciated limbs. If Magritte were still alive, do you think he'd use that as a title for something? Ceci n'est pas un arbre?