park raze more than three hundred conifers live here, with names that sound like gorgeous sighs plucked from the dreams of greek gods. caesalpinioideae. ailanthus altissima. acerifolia. castanea sativa. ulmus laevis. my favourite might be the spotted oak. i've never seen the acorns it gives, but its leaves, with their bristle-tipped teeth and tufted vein axils, turn a brilliant shade of red right around the time one year gets ready to slouch into another. the colour always makes me think of this place. i lived across the street from this park for more than seven years. i ate lunch here in high_school, cool beneath the shade of trees that don't exist anymore. i smoked pot here with friends after graduating. but i never spent much time walking here until the mall closed down for a while a little less than two years ago. losing that weather-proof but soulless improvised treadmill was the best thing that ever could have happened to me. over the last fifteen hundred miles or so, i've made friends with animals and their humans. i've walked through rain, snow, and humidity so thick it felt like a curse. and i've become an unlikely spiritual father to a group of squirrels. i used to rib my dad sometimes for worrying when i would go out on a friday or saturday night. "when you have kids," he said, "you'll understand." he was right. i get it now. it's just that my kids all live in trees. 220130 what's it to you? who go blather from