Scrapped the kayak trip at the last minute. The morning was warm and sunny and the notion of peak foliage lured me to
“Fancy cutting down all those beautiful trees to make pulp for those bloody newspapers and calling it civilization.”
As I sit here typing this, I can hear the sound to falling trees. Our neighborhood is the epicenter of two construction projects, a complex of $300,000 condos and an office complex. A few miles away, green farm fields evaporate into dusty craters as heavy machinery clears the way for yet another strip mall. Any undeveloped land is a suburban sin. Trees fall so some ill conceived start up business can have an office for a few months and then go belly up. Progress marches on.
I suffer from a severe case of why-can’t-it-be-like-it-was when I think of the neighborhoods of the early 80’s. I miss the diversity of mom and pop stores, pharmacies, and restaurants. Every neighborhood is a rotating cartoon background of chain stores and restaurants. There is nothing pleasing or imaginative about the office parks of the late 20th century. Squares built of squares to house people sitting in squares staring at illuminated squares. Trees are always the first victims. Humans are remarkably efficient at clearing away in one afternoon what has taken nature decades to build.
The above image was taken with department store Kodak Gold 400 color film using a flea market 35mm. Sometimes when you travel, you have to make due with the materials on hand.
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