They are cutting down the tree. The angry sound of a chainsaw makes me think of enraged wasps. As exhaust fumes seep in around doors and windows, the sound – not really the sound, but the knowledge of what the sound means – gnaws at my bones. This machine is not just ripping the tree away, but our peace. The peace it steals is the peace that a mature tree brings to a space. Sadly for this majestic, leafy tree, it was planted in exactly the wrong spot and was tearing up neighboring walls and garage floors. The landlord said it had to go even as he lamented the need for more trees in …

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