I was standing on the platform of the train station waiting for my mode of transportation to slide by, slow down to a stop, and pick me up. That is when I noticed the tree over there. See it, the one over there? Across the rails, across the parking lot and then across the road, there was this tall and majestic tree swaying ever so slightly in the wind. Between two tall apartment buildings gray and plain. This is an interesting contrast, I thought. Nature stuck between two huge slabs of concrete. Birds and insects and other animals connected to the tall swaying tree, in a good mood, and similar activity occuring within the bowels of the two concrete constructions where people moved and roamed and did their daily chores, bored stiff. Survival on two levels, not with one above the other, but next to each other. The tree could have come first and then the two buildings, or the town council had decided to raise the appartments and afterwards decorate the space inbetween with the tree. Something was missing and had to be added. Whichever way it had really gone is not important. What is important is the combination and the intertwining of the two elements (three elements if you count the buildings as two). There is lots and lots of concrete, but the glue holding it all together is the green of nature, the trees. Like the one I saw before me while waiting for the train. When with a creak-crack-clack the train screeched to a halt, my view was obscurred by the yellow front. I completely forgot what I was thinking about, and like an automated thing stepped in and sat down. Hard plastic and mobs of commuters, some sweating. As I was swept away to the west of the land, I caught the tree again in the corner of my eye. For a quick instant I remembered what I had been thinking about, before I forgot again.