Here's an example:
A few states away there was a tree that was so spectacular that a park was formed around it. This tree was termed "The Senator" in honor of the man who'd bought the land on which it grew and who deeded that land to the public for the tree's protection. It had pretty well been concluded that The Senator was more than 3,500 years old. Which means that even Rome had to wait 1,500 years for Augustus Caesar to be born when this tree was a seedling.
The Senator was easily, by far, the largest tree growing on the eastern side of the North American continent. To see anything that even approached this mammoth tree you'd have to drive a couple thousand miles to the west. It was unique. It was amazing. It was the Stupefyin' Jones of the eastern forests.
A few weeks ago The Senator was intentionally set alight by two meth freaks. It quickly burst into flames. At first the authorities thought that the tree had been struck by lightning, but finally the truth came out. By the time flames were noticed it was far too late to save this amazing living thing.
The point here is that I would always tell friends and acquaintances that they needed to stop at the Big Tree Park to see this tree if they were anywhere in the vicinity. It would only take a short few moments to locate the park, stroll the boardwalk to the tree and to view it. Doing so would hopefully put some things in life into perspective. One would, hopefully at least, gain an appreciation for the wealth that Nature displays for us.
Now The Senator is gone forever. If you never saw it...well, you fucked up. If, like me, you visited the park to see this tree whenever you were in that area, at least you have the memory of having experienced its majesty. In that respect, I have no regrets.
A stitched panorama of The Senator. The insignificant speck to the left of the tree is me. If you ever saw this tree, then good for you. If you never got the chance, or did and passed it by, then I feel sorry for you.