The Mysterious Pacifier Trees of Borough Park

Whomever can solve this mystery will win a free Lost City t-shirt (whenever I actually possess such garments, which will probably be never).

Outside 1450 48th Street, in an apartment building called The Plymouth, there are two bare trees on either side of the walkway leading to the entrance. Their branches are utterly loaded with used, discarded pacifiers.

There are easily a couple hundred or the plastic things, in every shade of the rainbow. They are hung on the limbs by their circular handles. Passing by, I at first thought the trees were in flower. Then I thought they were strewn with garbage, debris that has been tossed by the wind and had gotten caught in the branches. Then I didn't know what to think.


What is the explanation behind this piece of peculiar, environmental ad-hoc art? A few possible scenarios:

*The residents of 1450 are mainly child-proud parents, and every time a new kid is born a pacifier goes on the tree to signify the birth.

*The residents of 1450 are parenting activists who are violently opposed the the antiquated forms of child-rearing that are represented by the pacifier. They show their disdain for pacifiers by hanging them out to rot.

*The residents of 1450 are lazy and couldn't make it all the way to the curb to throw out their used pacifiers.

*The residents of 1450 were the subject an odd Halloween prank, and no one has bothered to undo the mischief yet.

*The residents of 1450 belong to as-yet-undiscovered cult that employs used pacifiers as a way of warding off evil spirits.

*Some parent in 1450 has a kid involved in a very unusual school project.

*Pacifier Trees are urban vandalism's new Sneakers-Tied-Together-and-Thrown-Over-a-Telephone-Wire.

*Aliens.