Why, you may wonder, is Celia angry about the city’s decision to fell a few old trees? Here, in the north garden of the Art Institute, we may find an answer.
For, on one side of the garden—just steps from Michigan Avenue—, are two improbably aged, enormous, gnarly, overreaching trees. They are not decorous, they are not over-managed; they are awesome, merely.
In a town incessantly straining against its nature to be great, these trees are possibly the most cultured things around, because they are dignified, and because their stewards have accorded them the respect and even reverence necessary for them to survive. Though the garden they’re situated in has been remade several times, they have been left alone to achieve the majesty and character that is the work of time.
Next time you are at the museum, be sure to take a moment out for these glorious trees.
Harley says
When my mind goes “a-wondering” I often like to look at trees. They are beautiful and ever so majestic; standing firm before nature’s ever-changing forces. They are alive and can thrive even though, at times, the odds are against them. I will check out the trees you have photographed.
Celia says
I love the old thorn trees in the south garden, too.
Janet says
I don’t blame you for being upset, I would be too. It reminds me of an instance last year when our church was going to cut one beautiful old cherry tree. The parishioners had a fit, enough so that it wasn’t cut down.
Celia says
Trees so often make the land a “landscape.” I wish in this case the sentiments of the community had been accommodated, and that more appreciation for the natural resources on this land had been displayed. Thanks for responding to my point of view–I appreciate your writing in.