Putting Myself in the Plants’ Place

Driving along, casting my eyes left and right, the street trees lined up along the national road are lush green and refreshing against the summer sky. But observing each one’s stance, I notice individual differences—some grow awfully fast, some still have many new buds left, and some have withered. Can I really judge this as “a healthy child, a weak child”? Or do such differences arise from the sunlight and ventilation conditions of where each was planted?—it bothers me. Every living thing has a fate it’s been given, but if one withered because of its location, then it may be not heaven’s will but a man-made disaster—its sun stolen by tall buildings, or taking the full brunt of the wind through a canyon of buildings. Rather than dismissing this condition as mere bad luck, I hope that in the age ahead a mindset will grow that can build ideal towns able to give every street tree a comfortable dwelling, as fellow creatures living alongside us.