I first discovered that lovely little patch of loblollies only a month
or two after arrival. Growing at a forgotten intersection between two
busy roads, it was a dense, green wall seen at high speed between
other destinations.
I first walked it one cloudy afternoon in early winter, footsteps
silent on the mdense, matted needles. I returned several times, and
found it different each time. But last January was the most
memorable: the morning after a decent snowfall, the forest was another
world, white and green overhead, the morning sun bright against a
cerulean sky. But not silent: the strong winds were moving the
treetops and the forest was a tapestry of whispers.
A year later, the city very cavalierly mowed down the pines over the
course of a week, leaving ruptured, red earth. The land will be a
redesigned highway entrance. As an engineer, I understand this. But
the rest of me misses that quiet, magical green corner. All that
remains of it are these two videos. Enjoy the whisper: this memory is
all that remains.
