When I went to work in the morning, the trees were there. It was autumn and their leaves were a riot of colour. There were about fifty trees in all on the boulevard, skirting the main artery into the city centre. The trees had been there as long as I could remember. I used to watch them in the spring for they seemed to be the first trees in the city to announce the season with a suggestion of green. During the summer the tall trees provided shade for the boys and girls from a nearby factory, as the enjoyed their lunch on the green grass under their boughs. It was autumn now, and the trees were brilliant with colour, accented by the morning sunrise. That night, when I drove home, the trees were gone. The earth lay in great ruptures, black and barren. I assumed at the time that the city was going to widen the road. Six years have passed but nothing more has been done. Again and again this is happening in city after city. Parks torn up and trees rooted out all in the name of progress. Where yesterday we had a park, flowers, trees and tranquility, today we have a ribbon of concrete jammed with automobiles. There is little enough beauty in most western Canadian cities, and yet we stand by and let administration destroy what we have, to build bigger and better roads, and often for no apparent reason at all. A concerned citizenry is the only safe-guard against the appropriation of parkland. I’ll concede we need to solve the traffic problem, but not at the expense of what little beauty we have left.
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