The trees lining the open-air carpark behind our block have been labelled for their imminent removal. The plot of land was planned to be re-developed to support three new blocks of flats (a hell of a lot more people) and a multi-storey carpark.
We will miss this carpark. Its presence has after all ensured that we get an unobstructable view all the way to the city for the past year. Unfortunately, once the three 32-storey blocks are up, our wide view of the surroundings will be sliced up. :(
Other then that, I will also miss the chance to bump into Donna’s mother, Dior, and her owner infrequently, since they seem to like doing laps around the carpark.
Otherwise, the carpark is a place we pass through to get from one place to another. I was never that interested to get to know each and every tree even if we do walk Donna here occasionally for her loo breaks. But since it will be gone soon, we decided to spend more time just trying to see if there is something special in a rather ordinary carpark.
While my impressions of the carpark will be the overall spread of towering angsana tree branches and foliage overhead, Donna’s recollection of this place will likely be the sights and smells underfoot.
She will never spy the unexplainable junk left in the crock of tree branches, as surely as she will never sniff the fungus climbing up the tree trunks over her head.
Nor the parasitic ferns with their delicate fronds highlighted by the sunlight, until they fall to the ground.
Soon to be gone, to be replaced by new landscaped greenery and young saplings decorating the three new apartment blocks and attached multi-storey carpark that will slowly arise from the construction site in five years time.