When I was young, my mother would always say, “I want to be a tree in my next life.” I would imagine her as a tree and walk down the street thinking all the trees could be my mother. 

I moved alone to the United States in 2021 from China. When I approached the trees here in the parks, or when I walked along the streets, I saw my grandmother’s dangling breasts, I saw my father’s elbow, and I saw the tumor from my grandfather’s CT scan. I was drawn to the strange parts of the trees which reminded me of warts, nipples, and organs. I wondered: Was this tree once human?