It takes time for trees to grow to maturity.
About 20-25 years ago, the village of Canton planted trees along its two-block business district. During the winter holiday season the trees, now large enough to have an impact, are strung with little white lights; during the summer, someone lovingly cares for baskets of bright pink petunias hung from lower limbs. The trees transformed the village–from feeling neglected to cared for.
But this week…they’re gone. As I drove to work yesterday through downtown Canton, traffic was delayed as the last tree on the north side of the street was felled.
I know, I know. Progress. Wider road. Better sidewalks. But all I can make of it is this: it’s for cars, not people.
Sure, the NYS DOT will provide new plots of dirt to stick spindly saplings in and twenty or thirty years from now the town will have some warmth and charm again…unless the road needs more lanes before then.
Out for a walk this morning on a back road of Old DeKalb, I passed this bit of “guerrilla art” or protest humor–it had powerful resonance in the aftermath of the felling of the Canton trees.
Tell me about losses in your community–or better, about how you successfully saved something of value, ineffable though that value may be.