Zachary RunningWolf, a 43 man has been living in one of the oak trees near the Stadium since the beginning of December. He said killing trees was suicidal.

I know he sounds a little kooky, but man, I love those trees.

In the afternoon, they catch all the golden light, filter it through a storm fine dust entrapped by leafy canopy, and shower down a dappled light display. Contemplative wanderers like to sit along the steps there and pretend to get some studying done.

Often, a band of caped crusaders will throw up a tire swing, like valorous robinhoods with intentions only of amusing over schooled-minds.

The live oaks near Memorial Stadium, under the threat of death from the University's plans for a new athletic facility, are one of the prettiest parts of campus. I used to pass through and underneath them daily, when I lived in a house right beside the stadium doors---with a perfect view of the humongous vertical crack along along its Romanesque wall, left by the 1989 earthquake. To the west, the oak trees crouch mindlessly, while students and professors rush in and past them over the years.