...irreplaceable. The tree that's now a stump will not be replaced while I'm on this earth. We counted 92 rings, so I'm guessing it was a century tree. And, judging from the clear surface of the stump, the tree wasn't diseased or infested with anything nasty. It appears the only blight it experienced was the all too prevalent blight of greed, as the site where it stood (on the front of the property where it's unlikely it would have impeded construction of any new structures) is slated for development.
I is also for ironic, as the property long served as the home of the
Birthplace of BC Gallery, an institution whose owner was instrumental in preserving the heritage of the town of
Fort Langley.
There was further irony involved, as the group of us who discovered this (in Fort Langley to participate in a poetry reading at the
Fort Gallery) had all been participants in the
Han Shan Poetry Project, an arts celebration that managed to bring about the preservation of a nearby forest grove.
It would be easy to go on with the list of "I" words the tree-cutting represents: insensitive, idiotic, insane, intolerable... But I think I'll go outside instead to glory in the presence of the trees that remain around me.
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