Post by TreeLover on Sept 15, 2008 16:51:38 GMT -6
({dances} Thought of a title... okay so I stole the line from a church song... but it fits in a weird way I swear!)
Alrighty. Par dos. Went over it with suggestions from the teacher, two people from class, Groks, and my own workings. It'll probably be tweaked here and there before it's turned in on Wednesday, then tweaked again before next week when the final draft is due.
It would be nice to see what you guys think of this version, there's not much difference... just reads a bit better, and I finished it off a bit better (though I'm still not happy with it).
---------
A quiet two lane road, weathered houses stationed to one side. Trees took up guard on the opposite flank, a variety of sizes, shapes, and types all woven together to protect those that made the brush their home. A private field of vibrant green bean plants grew snug in a humble plot of land, shielded from harsh weather. A trickle of a creek disappeared into the deep shades of a thick growth of trees. Over old railroad tracks, the sturdy timbers curving out of sight around a hill, the road wove around the edge of a field where wild turkeys were often found flocked together, tall trees created a sense of solitude for them as the sun disappeared behind the horizon.
You wouldn’t even imagine such a place was only down the street from a bustling shopping district.
The memory of this road isn’t an old one, it was one of my favorite places to drive through. It reminded me that my city still held on to its roots; the small family farms, the country roads, undisturbed wildlife. It was a short run, but all the same, I enjoyed the journey down it. This reminiscence, however, is not where my thoughts lay now, this image is no longer there. Destroyed, like so many good things are.
Three years ago, the construction of a new hospital began. The turkeys’ roaming ground was quickly buried under a mountain of bedrock, taken from the hill above in an attempt to level it. The forest cut down, field grass dug up from moving machines, turning the whole area into a scar upon the earth.
I ranted. I raged. I fumed. Had I known what was to come, maybe I wouldn’t have wasted my energy in being so angry over it. As it was, I was furious. There was no need to make all that habitat disappear, to rid ourselves of the natural beauty of old trees that could have been easily saved, even for landscaping for the new hospital. How hard would it have been to save just a couple?
No one asked me.
Things settled, and I came to terms with the destruction. Even finding joy as I noticed the earth overtaking the rock mountain, new green life growing over the hard gray surface. It seemed though, that they weren’t quite done with ‘improvements’. The first I heard of it was through my mother. She had come through that way earlier, witnessing the terrible crime. I was appalled by what I had heard, but in the back of my mind I didn’t really believe that actually happened (at least to the degree she had described).
How wrong I was.
The little green field was gone, in its place was a dusty field. Large, yellow machines moving, kicking up even more of the dry earth. Sentinels uprooted, their wards scattered and homeless. Limbs were broken and ravaged with such ferocity, it looked less than a construction site, and more like a place of slaughter. No longer was it a quiet, two lane road. The small houses looking out of place among the busy movement of the monstrosities.
I ranted. I raged. I fumed. I cried.
If I was furious before, then there is no word to describe me now. Such reckless, useless destruction. It didn’t look like there was any organization of the new roads going in. As one area was cleared and pressed for a road, another would be started, going a different way. There were three streets all going in at weird angles, and no one could find any sense to it. Then something happened to further test me. I found that they were building a bridge, higher than any tree had been. There had not been any reason at all to get rid of all those trees.
No one asked me.
No, no one asked me what I thought would be the best way to plan these ‘improvements’. Through the whole episode, my friends and I had talked about how we were going to protest this and that. Make signs, get a group together. I had even declared that I would get in contact with the City Planner.
We never did try.
We were too busy, it slipped our minds, uncertainty laced our thoughts. There was something else we had to do. Always.
Too often are words spoken, but never acted upon. Too often people find something blocking their way to action. Too often are worthy causes ignored because of selfish needs.
Alrighty. Par dos. Went over it with suggestions from the teacher, two people from class, Groks, and my own workings. It'll probably be tweaked here and there before it's turned in on Wednesday, then tweaked again before next week when the final draft is due.
It would be nice to see what you guys think of this version, there's not much difference... just reads a bit better, and I finished it off a bit better (though I'm still not happy with it).
---------
A quiet two lane road, weathered houses stationed to one side. Trees took up guard on the opposite flank, a variety of sizes, shapes, and types all woven together to protect those that made the brush their home. A private field of vibrant green bean plants grew snug in a humble plot of land, shielded from harsh weather. A trickle of a creek disappeared into the deep shades of a thick growth of trees. Over old railroad tracks, the sturdy timbers curving out of sight around a hill, the road wove around the edge of a field where wild turkeys were often found flocked together, tall trees created a sense of solitude for them as the sun disappeared behind the horizon.
You wouldn’t even imagine such a place was only down the street from a bustling shopping district.
The memory of this road isn’t an old one, it was one of my favorite places to drive through. It reminded me that my city still held on to its roots; the small family farms, the country roads, undisturbed wildlife. It was a short run, but all the same, I enjoyed the journey down it. This reminiscence, however, is not where my thoughts lay now, this image is no longer there. Destroyed, like so many good things are.
Three years ago, the construction of a new hospital began. The turkeys’ roaming ground was quickly buried under a mountain of bedrock, taken from the hill above in an attempt to level it. The forest cut down, field grass dug up from moving machines, turning the whole area into a scar upon the earth.
I ranted. I raged. I fumed. Had I known what was to come, maybe I wouldn’t have wasted my energy in being so angry over it. As it was, I was furious. There was no need to make all that habitat disappear, to rid ourselves of the natural beauty of old trees that could have been easily saved, even for landscaping for the new hospital. How hard would it have been to save just a couple?
No one asked me.
Things settled, and I came to terms with the destruction. Even finding joy as I noticed the earth overtaking the rock mountain, new green life growing over the hard gray surface. It seemed though, that they weren’t quite done with ‘improvements’. The first I heard of it was through my mother. She had come through that way earlier, witnessing the terrible crime. I was appalled by what I had heard, but in the back of my mind I didn’t really believe that actually happened (at least to the degree she had described).
How wrong I was.
The little green field was gone, in its place was a dusty field. Large, yellow machines moving, kicking up even more of the dry earth. Sentinels uprooted, their wards scattered and homeless. Limbs were broken and ravaged with such ferocity, it looked less than a construction site, and more like a place of slaughter. No longer was it a quiet, two lane road. The small houses looking out of place among the busy movement of the monstrosities.
I ranted. I raged. I fumed. I cried.
If I was furious before, then there is no word to describe me now. Such reckless, useless destruction. It didn’t look like there was any organization of the new roads going in. As one area was cleared and pressed for a road, another would be started, going a different way. There were three streets all going in at weird angles, and no one could find any sense to it. Then something happened to further test me. I found that they were building a bridge, higher than any tree had been. There had not been any reason at all to get rid of all those trees.
No one asked me.
No, no one asked me what I thought would be the best way to plan these ‘improvements’. Through the whole episode, my friends and I had talked about how we were going to protest this and that. Make signs, get a group together. I had even declared that I would get in contact with the City Planner.
We never did try.
We were too busy, it slipped our minds, uncertainty laced our thoughts. There was something else we had to do. Always.
Too often are words spoken, but never acted upon. Too often people find something blocking their way to action. Too often are worthy causes ignored because of selfish needs.
