Being a plant growing in Marshall Park, I've been able to eavesdrop on many human conversations.
Once I heard two old men saying that after the St. Lawrence Seaway opened, ocean alewives died en masse on Chicago's Lake Michigan beaches, causing a horrible stink, and zebra mussels entered the lake, clogging water-intake pipes, clinging to boats and making an expensive nuisance of themselves.
Another time I heard two visiting Egyptian women saying the Aswan Dam was destroying the fertility of the Nile Valley and wasn't creating the anticipated amount of hydroelectric power, due to extreme evaporation.
A week ago I heard a couple from Downers Grove, Ill., complaining about their park district's plans to improve a tiny, pristine forest preserve by adding workout stations to its nature trail every 50 feet, parallel bars and stuff like that. The couple wanted the forest left as wild as possible, but the park people didn't understand that. Humans don't seem able to leave anything alone, and do poorly when they mess with my mother, Nature.
Then today I heard an old couple talking about me and my park, the place where I live.
They were talking about some plan to kill me and all my friends, something about us blocking the view!
The man said he thought some people wanted us removed because the improved view would improve the value of their houses. The woman wondered why there was money for more meddling with nature, but not enough for the state's infrastructure needs.
I remember when I was a seed blowin' around Highland Avenue, I sensed that people were enjoying the view of the sound from Kerry Park and along the railing on Eighth Avenue West. So I wonder why that ain't enough. I guess humans never have enough, and once again they think they're going to improve on my mother, Nature.
Now I admit that I don't have a recognizable brain. But what I don't get is, if humans are so smart, why do they keep makin' the same dumb mistake over and over and over and over and...?
You'll have to excuse me now while I send off my seeds to find a safer location.
Shelley Simon lives on Queen Anne Hill. He is not a plant, though he plays one in the newspaper.
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