trees are my friends

And I wish I could shoot those idiots who prefer sterile stone-steel-plastik backyards to green-lush-living ones.
So they kill the other young maple tree and the big rowan tree, too.
I must say, I'm wary all the time, hoping that it won't happen, that one day some other idiot decides the old big trees in the biggest backyard we're looking at and the gigantic wonderful wild wine on the wall on the other side should die, too.
Little things like those led better people than me to start a killing spree, you know.