Trees and Me, Not Meant to Be

There’s a very good reason that I’ve chosen to live in the heart of the city, and it’s because I hate things that grow.

Yeah, I know. Go ahead, gasp, question my humanity. For the record, I like babies and dogs are fine, so I’m not a total monster. I’ve just always felt like humans and trees, despite their history and usefulness, should be kept separate. They give us oxygen, we chop them down to make paper and novelty wooden animals, but otherwise, there’s no reason to TOUCH one. Who ever needs to do that? I’m happy knowing that there are trees out there, and I’m happy seeing as little of them as possible. I’m also very happy knowing there are people in Melbourne who offer¬†tree removal and tree pruning,¬†all of that jazz. If there’s one thing that makes me feel better, it’s that people exist whose job it is to remove trees, and only to remove trees. Hopefully they can remove them and take them somewhere that isn’t here, because even in the CBD they seem to think it’s a good idea to plant a stupid tree every five steps.

I really don’t know where this irrational hatred came from. I remember being in prep and learning the song ‘From Little Things, Big Things Grow’ and feeling a shudder of dread at the concept, so it must’ve started before that. I also remember being in kinder, watching all the kids climbing trees at break-time and clenching my little fists in fury and disgust, so it was before that as well.

Maybe I was just born with it. I’ve never thought to ask my family how they feel, so maybe it’s just an O’Leary trait. We are the anti-tree people. So why don’t we own the Melbourne tree lopping industry? We could’ve had a vast tree trimming empire that aims to segregate city centres from trees, and stop the encroachment of branches and leaves into suburban life. Maybe that’s my calling. I should get on that.