Monday, August 25, 2014

Sometimes, Change Just Happens Before We're Ready

For all my talk about needed change and progress, today I unexpectedly find myself in...an environmentalist position? At the very least, commenters might call me a tree hugger! After not posting yesterday I was determined to make headway with a pile of notes on the desk this morning, only to get some unexpected news. In a sense I should have known because the warnings were there: survey markers were going up around my walking trail but I didn't pay them much mind.

Then, another walker I've seen on the trail for the last three years told me, "They're getting ready to build a softball field. Apparently the work starts in two months." Another short walking trail had recently been laid in the new city park on the edge of town. Except the new trail seemed like the afterthought it really was, hence held little appeal. As a result that only increased the traffic of joggers and walkers on this (longer) half mile trail, which loops back and forth through a mature grove of pecan and oak trees.

No wonder the mention about the softball field was buried somewhere in the local paper where few would even notice. Why was this little strip of school property chosen for a makeover - situated as it is between the two football stadiums - when other properties would have provided more room? Just thinking about the old pecan trees - which will likely be pulled out of the ground - is like pulling out a piece of my heart, and the work will begin in the middle of this year's pecan harvest.

Of course there's plenty of other pecan trees, for they grow wild in this part of Texas. People have picked up pecans freely along the walking trail for years, much as they do in other public areas. Still, this grove and trail is in a welcoming spot, where people have always felt free to exercise or just relax and watch the passersby. In small towns where Main Streets are not much more than pharmacies and a few lonely businesses, it means quite a lot to have places on any day of the week where one can be outdoors in trusting environments.

One older tree by the parking area is well over a hundred years old. I still look at it and remember Dad scrambling up the trunk (shortly before his ninetieth birthday), to shake down pecans we couldn't reach, some years ago. For many years, Dad has paid school taxes from the pecans he's been able to sell. For me it always felt more rational to just pick out as many pecans as possible to eat at home. But then...exercise is exercise!

As Joni Mitchell sang, "You don't know what you've got till it's gone." I never even started my two mile a day walking regimen till 2011, and the trail was probably built years after my high school graduation. Twice a day I've bicycled in recent years - early morning and evening - to the same area where I began and completed the education of my youth.

Property decisions such as this are of course the school's prerogative, for they have much more money at their disposal to determine public areas than the city does. However like so many things school related in small towns, that tends to skew resource use for local activities towards people who are still quite young, along with their parents.

That's why the local football stadium might seem incredibly over the top to some, given the relative lack of resources in other shared areas. And yet, most families are going to appreciate public areas given over to group sports, more than general use areas...right? General use areas must be for older folk such as myself, who often walk along in solitude. Don't older people just want to stay home and watch TV? Or so the rationale apparently goes.

Like others, I'll adjust to the tiny trail that was added to the city park on the edge of town. It will probably become the new morning spot, where I can organize thoughts for the latest post. Even though the stay in my old hometown is of a temporary nature, this particular change just happened to come along before I was ready. The shade and comfort of the pecan grove will always remain in my memory.

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