Do you think that the trees are alive?
There’s a lot to be said about growing up around trees.
Firstly, one who knows very little about the science of trees and oxygen would have to thank the local forest for the sheer oxygenation of one’s brain.
Secondly, one who dabbles in the liminal space between “rational” and “spiritual” would have to believe wholeheartedly in presence of “sentience” among the trees.
Finally, one would have take a walk. When I was 17 my best friend and I decided to do just that.
We had been friends for 15 years at that point — spending much of that time among the trees. The forest was the stage and catalyst for our wildest imaginations. We played knights and wizards as we ran through the trees. By the time I was 17 the “forest games” hadn’t gone away. They had changed. They now involved more rules, people, and alcohol.
But the day that I decided to take a walk in the forest with my friend was one of those days where we didn’t play any forest games. Instead, we took a forest walk. It was golden hour. 7pm on a day in June.
That day we discovered something that we hadn’t in a very long time: untrodden territory. A new path. We plummeted into a tree-covered valley. I was nervous that we woudn’t find a pathway at the bottom of the hill. The wild route we were taking didn’t leave a hint of civilization. It was also ego, of course. I thought to myself: “If there were a path in this park I would have already discovered it”.
But when we got to the bottom of the hill we did find a path. A beautiful, well kept path. We turned left.
We walked through the forest until we saw a clearing. It was one of the most beautiful moments I’ve ever had in nature. The forest opened gradually to an expanse overlooking a huge pond. I could hear the ducks and laughter. The sun was shining golden light over reeds and ripples.
I couldn’t believe that I had discovered such an amazing enclave of natural beauty in the heart of downtown Toronto.
This walk stayed with me. I kept bringing people on that pathway to re-experience the beauty of that opening with me.
Until last year.
I brought my partner on the walk — excited to show her the expanse. As got to it though, I noticed something. Like lettuce in teeth: two high-rise condos smack dab in the middle of that opening. An ugly reminder of where we really were. An antidote to imagination and the suspension of disbelief. The shattering of special moments by concrete and steel beam.
These. Fucking. Condos.
I felt as if I had lost this special place that evoked most of human history: one where trees were the tallest things around. We revered and cherished them because they stood so far above where we could reach. But now we had conquered the sky. Every single inch of airspace.
Thank you Toronto. Enjoy the luxury condos.
