On my way home my bus passes through Guildwood. The trees here still maintain some of their wild ways. Though it's obvious many of their friends, family and acquaintences have been cut down to make space for houses and roads. They still retain their own order. Leaves fall, wander and gather as they please. And though the trees remember a time when they were a forest they are content with their existence. Along the road, by the lake, where the breeze that fills them is the same as years and years before. They are not like their city cousins. The trees in the business sector of Toronto. Those which exist in squared spaces in the concrete, covered in paint and posters. I imagine, one day, that the trees will raise their roots up out of the ground and stretch. The Guildwood houses and roads would be destroyed I think. These wild trees could do it. And here on the 116A that's exciting to me, that one day I might see the trees yawn and stretch then got back to sleep without knowing or giving a fuck.
