Big trees

Goodbye, big trees.


In the older part of the city, Ha Noi has some wonderful wide, (relatively) quite streets lined with these big old wonderful trees. Several times a week on my way to and from the Action for the City office, I bike along the street pictured above. Especially in the hot afternoon, I look forward to turning onto this street where the traffic is less intense and where at points the foliage forms a shady canopy over the road. Everything seems a little quieter and calmer when you're around ancient trees.

There was one afternoon when it was super hot and sunny around my office, but as I entered this part of town on my way home, I came on the heels of a rain shower. Abruptly, the pavement was wet with no sign of dust and the air was cool and clean. And the trees seemed to insulate this random bubble of fresh air, holding it for a just a moment so that we mortals might enjoy a few gulps before it ascends back into the mouth of God from whence it came. I was so surprised by my sudden good fortune to exist in such a sweet and wonderful bit of earth and time.

Apparently these trees are the work of French colonial city planners... well, perhaps one of their better ideas. Or maybe I should hate the trees because they are linked to occupation and oppression. When I first arrived in Viet Nam, I think if I'd known where they came from, I would have tried to hate the trees. For what they represent. These days, after almost a year here, I don't tie my mind and heart in idealist knots so much. I don't really have a counter-argument for why I shouldn't hate the trees. But I think that's kind of the point. I do, however, regularly revel in filling my lungs with their shady, green, cool, breezy breath whenever I pass through their realm.

Thank you, big trees, for cooling and refreshing my (and everyone's) commute. I appreciate you and will miss you very much.