Remembering a Tree
This week I rode down to my local grocery store and noticed the little island where an oak tree once stood had been paved over. No more oak tree. Asphalt for more cars. It seemed like a metaphor to me.
A tree is a little thing, really. Seems silly to mourn its loss when its destruction frees up more space for parked cars. Is this what they mean by “creative destruction”? Besides, as one of my suburban neighbors once told me, “you can’t go to the grocery store on a bicycle.” The store seems to agree, since they don’t provide a decent bike rack if you brave the streets lacking bike lanes and ride your bike to the store. Hardly anybody I know rides their bike to the store (even though some of them think climate change is real). Too hard, I guess.
Nevertheless I used to lock my bike to a signpost in the shade under that tree. It was nice.
But the oak tree wasn’t making the grocery company any money. It just sat there, doing what trees do. This way, a few more people will be able to park their cars close to the store. I’m sure they’ll think it was worth it. Maybe some of them drive Priuses. That will make it alright, won’t it?
But I’ll remember that tree.