Know thy Tree
On having a favourite tree.
While everyone (incl. me) is logging their little entries on Letterboxd and Goodreads, frothing at the mouth to declare the top albums of 2025, repping their preferred Espresso Martini spots or dive bars to cosplay blue collar, I am left wondering why our generation’s obsession with shallow, caption-ranking-listicle-driven discourse has not extended to urban greenery.
Here I am to fill the void.
I was raised in a young prairie town with a cool, dry climate and short summers—a region we might consider “third world” or “emerging” for the kingdom Plantae, particularly trees. Lacking adequate greenery to engage with, I turned, as any teenager would, to drugs. I told my parents I was taking the dog out with my first-ever joint hidden in my pocket, smoked the entire thing in one sitting, and promptly had a panic attack in the grass.
My sanity was upheld only thanks to a White Spruce tree, which I watched sway in the park for 45 minutes. This was a pivotal moment in my relationship with the world of trees. Inanimate lumps of wood transformed, just then, into beings I could whisper telepathically to and would eventually come to love. If we can borrow from the language of sexual awakenings, the White Spruce on the southeast corner of Elboya Park was my Elastigirl.
Today, I am thankful for my vegetatively impoverished childhood, which led me to access an appreciation for urban flora that my Vancouver friends, with their old-growths, and my Toronto friends, with their spring blossoms and fall colours, often take for granted. After living in Toronto now for over a decade, I can still proudly say that every spring, summer, fall overwhelms me with frondescent inspiration. And this does not just apply to Toronto, which is a good but not great home for trees—my travel photos almost entirely consist of trees or art. They are one and the same.
A few weeks ago, I happened upon a great, albeit neglected website which documents Toronto wildlife sightings, including a well-populated Trees & Shrubbery section. The page’s early internet aesthetics feel very 2025 (unintentionally), though the last logging appears to have been made in 2021. Tickled by this project, I emailed the website admin to congratulate them, hoping they might pick the project back up. I like the idea of an app for documenting foliage. But perhaps it is for the best that we cannot attach our egos to trees via curated digital profiles and shareable collections, to inevitably be monetized.
The discovery of the website above + having taken shelter under so many leafy canopies during Toronto’s month-long heat wave inspired me to share a few of my favourite tree sightings. I think everyone should know thy favourite tree. It is easier than knowing thyself, and philosophically more gratifying since the latter propagates our already inflated sense of self rather than our place in a larger world. Accordingly, I will be asking you about your favourite trees, in your respective cities, next time I see you. Please be ready for the question or feel free to email/DM me a picture + approx. location.
Without further ado,
This dawn redwood is a discovery from just this week. I saw an Instagram story containing its majesty and contacted the poster for an ID. He was wise to not give me exact coordinates, simply telling me it's in High Park, thus prompting a treasure hunt in which I biked back and forth along the shores of Grenadier Pond for an hour or so until spotting it. She lives in a secluded spot with a bench right beneath her, where I finished reading My Beautiful Friend while the sun set, undoubtedly a *chef’s kiss* summer moment.
This saucer magnolia is not my favourite in Toronto per se but it’s an 8/10 tree plus bonus points for being on my favourite street, Rusholme Rd, somewhere between College and Bloor. I caught this lovely picture of the tree in full spring blossom in May of this year.
This weeping willow on Argyle St is probably my favourite in the city. It dominates the quiet little side street. On windy days it dances and sways not just with grace but precarity, a tightrope that any life-well-lived should straddle. The humans who share the space installed a steel beam which runs vertically beside the trunk. I couldn’t figure out what the beam was achieving without trespassing, but I’m glad to know we are doing something to extend its presence. Who knows how much longer it will be there.
Have a nice weekend!
I loved trees as a kid I always hugged them and talked to them, but as I grown up I forgot to enjoy little things like this sadly. Now I'm gonna go outside and find my new favorite tree.
The dawn redwood 😍 absolutely gorgeous... ive heard people say trees talk. I haven't heard them yet, but I know i feel so calm when it's just me and them without the world.