Charlotte, NC 54% Closer To Becoming A Treeless Desert

At the mere mention of breaking bread with long, stout, bushy and or wavy trees I'm treated like a 7th floor hospital patient at Presbyterian near center city. Tree's and me...it ain't a Montana thing! The relationship far exceeds everything human being! It's kind of selfish, this kinship with a stick stuck feet first in a ball of Georgia clay. It took nearly a pocket full of forever to sway the neighs. "Tree's don't speak!" They'd laughingly yet extremely seriously direct their intent. "Who then?" My interruption swiftly lit the thin summer Carolina accent. "Who spoke so loud its echo is still here today?" A Poet and forest. Could it be too far from likely? Besides, once inside a cities limits trees rarely if ever have a presence. This forest would be different! A billion plus one trees was the dream! Not me! The voice I keep hearing! Week after week itty bitty leafless seedlings with thin rooting systems were sent to march against the grain of storm drains. Erosion the corrosion. Fallen timber the feed for their need stuck feet first in a ball of Georgia clay. Shoot! Before I knew it the Poet had 17 hundred wind catchers staring at him. Gulp! Pictures were taken. Hundreds if not a ka-zillion notes quickly written. Tree's and me...it's not a Montana thing! 15 years into the chapters of I wish I had...you should see the land. Some trees are three of me! The white tail deer have returned and this Spring the Poet and his friends witnessed not one but three owl hatchings. Beaver, black snakes and rabbits that stand on their back feet! The Poet even planted winter wheat! I can't be the only one constantly hungry! Then today, 15 years into the chapters of I wish I had...the Charlotte Observer inked something new to think. Charlotte needs 25,000 new plantings a year to achieve its 2050 canopy goal. Only 46% of our southern city once named Tree City is blessed with sticks stuck feet first in a ball of Georgia clay. Don't shove all the blame onto development! Tree sickness caused by ten years of drought has sucked up the south. Opting out of protecting is the mission of the Charlotte city commission. Louder than ever I hear the screams.. Not from me! The voice first heard 15 years into the chapters of I wish. "I was once only a stick stuck feet first in a ball of Georgia clay. Today I have a new song to sing...inside a matter of unpredictable Carolina storms, my limbs won't be any more. Soon I shall fall therefore which plant, plants, weeds maybe leafless dreams should I feed? There are no trees whose roots require the suits once worn by a cloud catching warrior. Can you hear me?" arroe.net