At last: Juan has a child with whom he tells stories at bedtime. He fidgeted, swallowed and stared at his daughter’s expectant eyes. Brown eyes as they are, he thought of an answer, snuggled in bed with her, and began telling her a story back when the land was still lush with nature’s greenery, when the rivers were clean, the skies were blue and when the air was fresh. That was also the time when, a non – living creation towered above anything else, gracing the mountains with magnificence, outstretched arms and enviable strength: the tree. Although Juan’s bedtime story reflects a longing to please an inquisitive mind, I am pretty sure, that while I listened and watched them both, he failed to exactly describe how a tree looks like. My mind has escalated to a disastrous time when Juan has never seen a tree himself.

Joyce Kilmer said all of it so poetically: a poem emanating from the fear of reality that as humans push for urban development, trees will only be seen as preserved specimens in a concrete museum. By then, dendrology – the study of trees – will keep records of human achievements with the citation of ‘cutting the last tree standing somewhere.’ Afterwards, scientists will endeavor to grow trees on Mars and turistas will pay heavily just to get a glimpse of this notoriously debated creation. However, they will just be muttering disappointments because every thing on earth loses its splendor when taken away from where it was born: the combination of a green form in a red landscape will just remind them of The Holidays.

In the same way, the dictionary will miss the word ‘tree’ on its listings because it will just be a part of biological history and extinct species. The importance of it in helping the air stay clean, in preventing erosion, and its contribution to water resources will be long forgotten. Ultimately, illegal logging will not be a crime anymore because there is nothing left to cut and to cause a legal strife. After all, when logging has already disintegrated as an occupation, the loggers will throw their chainsaws away and replace it with bullets to protect the extinct trees.

The tree will eventually be a prized possession among the privileged. Remember that poem by Joyce Kilmer. Along the stretch of Kennon Road, there will no more be stanzas to read. Billboards will just abound for the city will soon offer towering buildings to accommodate visitors and nothing more.

Admittedly, this article is sensationalism in itself but I bet it is far better than politics, grave crimes, war and terrorism, and above all, showbiz. Besides, it stresses Juan’s noble sentiments to sustain what is left by his ancestors. And when I say that Juan has a daughter, it does not mean that he is married but it means that population will continue to cause divided principles on nature’s welfare and ideologies for development. For all I know, development means an improvement for greater good and not profit – making disguised in the tourism industry. Give the term a rest.

As Juan finished his story, he realized that his daughter has already gone to sleep. He knew that she was bored because the rivers he claimed of being clean bloat mountains of trash, the mountains are falling because of erosion and the air stinks instead of being fresh. Oh, there are really no grasses because the land is embedded with a different kind of soil that hardens when it dries. The year is 2020.

“How does a tree look like, Daddy?” Soon it will be a measure of effective fatherhood. Being able to satisfy the queries about things non – existent will be a challenge to be faced by the next generations because in the eyes of a child, everything is wonderful. As such, everything should stay wonderful because once, we were children. What more can we give (or show) them when we take everything for ourselves? It is true that as we age, these simple wonders are taken for granted because norms dictate that we be complex thinkers. Humans as we are, eyeing the world like a child sometimes can give us unintelligible wisdom as to why a tree is going be cut. A few privileged people can enjoy the high-rise concretes but once and for all, development should be the majority’s will.

I do not have a daughter. In fact, I am single and free of sidelings. Yet I worry that soon, I will be faced with the same question by my children whose eagerness will force me to challenge the enjoyments that I have had while they were there, yet fail them about the mere thought of how a tree actually looked like.


Thank you to Free-Photos for the featured image.