I’ve always really, really hated trees, so the thought of them being removed makes me feel good inside. Like…okay, it’s like when you see a contestant on a show you really hate get voted/kicked off, and it’s just the best feeling because you know you won’t have to see them any more. I’ve made extra sure there’s not a single tree anywhere on my property, and that’s the way it’s staying because no WAY am I letting any of them grow. I have every Melbourne arborist number taped to the inside of my kitchen cupboard, just in case the opportunity comes to knock down a tree and I happen to be the one to make the call.
Actually, I did seriously consider becoming an arborist when I was younger and my seething hatred for trees was less refined. It all began back in the summer of ‘92, when I was very much younger. One day I saw a tree, just sitting there minding its own business, and I thought…gosh, that makes me so angry. Here we all are stumbling through life, and that tree is just sitting there, growing. That’s all it ever has to do. That tree, and every tree in the world, will never understand our struggles, or even make the effort to give it a go. It’ll never have a bad breakup, have to pay a bill, be forced to babysit for a terrible child, get fired from a job, have to get up early for work after a night of partying, contract a terminal disease, be press-ganged into watching a really awful romantic comedy or undergo the torment of a family reunion where you end up seated between drunk uncle Dan and criminally insane grandma Edith.
They just sit there, and there are millions of people around the world going on and on and ON about how we need to protect them. Oh, the poor trees!
I say no. They can all burn for all I care, because I lived through that family reunion and the fact that no tree ever has to do anything similar just fills me with rage. So I’m happy that Melbourne tree lopping is a real thing. THEY might not do it for those reasons…but I can still look upon their work, and smile.
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