A Curious Correspondence in Mark?

Just before St. Peter confesses Christ to be the Son of God, Christ partially heals, and then fully heals, a blind man. Partially healed, the blind man sees men as if they were walking trees. Could this imperfect sight be meant to correspond to the ambiguous glimpse of Christ that Peter recieves shortly after this incident?

Christ's approval of St. Peter's confession proves that St. Peter's glimpse into Christ's nature was a true seeing. Christ's subsequent rebuke proves that this true seeing was not without its limitations. It is the same with the blind man: he truly saw men, where before he saw nothing, but he saw them in a distorted way. Specifically, he saw them as walking trees. Can we squeeze something profound out of this strange detail?

How might a tree describe a man? As a walking tree, perhaps? This makes sense if we remember that trees are alive in a more contingent way than men are. They need the soil they are rooted in if they are to move (i.e. grow) at all. If a tree recieved a momentary glimpse of the nature of man, the most startling thing to him might be man's ability to pick up his life and carry it somewhere else.
"What did you see?" asks the fig tree.
"I saw a walking tree.", says the oak.
"Well I never!", says the fig. "Hey guys! Get this! Oak here says he saw a walking tree!"
"A walking tree? Have you ever heard of such a thing?", the birch asks the maple.
"Who me?", answers the maple, "The only walking tree I ever saw was a dead tree. You can't live without roots! Imagine, living without roots!"
At this point the oak might begin to waver.
"Well, maybe the wind was just blowing really hard. Maybe he wasn't walking after all."

How hard it would be, as a tree, to realize that your roots were not the source of your strength and life; that you could be uprooted and die and yet live to walk. How hard it would be, as a Jew, to realize that Jerusalem, which is likened to a fig tree later in Mark, must be whithered-that your temple must be destroyed, that your people must be uprooted and scattered around the earth. How could this not be looked at, by such a man as St. Peter, as an impossibilty? Of course Peter wavered when he saw the dream of conquest die: how could the Messiah fail?

We all look at Christ as a walking tree: as something that somehow carries its life within itself wherever it goes. But this glimpse of God is easy to lose sight of day-to-day. We are tempted to say: "this is the part of my soul ,of my individuality, of my daily activities, where Christ takes root. This is Jerusalem!" It is a severe mercy that Christ whithers himself for our sake, and withdraws from our sight, that we might not worship idols.