By Caroline Jacobs
I think that I shall never see, a poem lovely as a ficus tree (“Shedding light,” May 22, page 1).
How do I love thee? Let me count all the ways. Your leaves. An endless source of precious shade. Because of you, I won’t get skin cancer. I plan my walks according to where the shade is. If I walk down Arizona by the post office, I don’t anymore. I take my car because there’s no shade. I love shade. I think it’s very friendly. And inviting.
Are you serious? You think tourists are going to flock to Second and Fourth (streets) because the trees are cut down? I hold my head in astonishment. Et tu, Brutus?
I really don’t blame the arborist/forester. The higher-ups give him the orders to slash away. No, no, no. I will chain myself to my beloved ficus trees. Let’s all do it together!
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on June 5, 2007. Read the original PDF.