Razed Paradise and Put In A Parking Lot

-Man, that’s harsh!

Hey there! 💚 Let’s chat about what unfolded after a little paradise slipped away. It hit me hard, and it’s taken some time to process before I could share it with you.

Now, peeking out of my office window, the reality is surprisingly stark:

The flat, ruffled sand resembles the mine tailings piles I worked on and reclaimed in the ’70s (karma, anyone?).
Like those tailings piles, there’s not a living thing in sight.
Reflected heat and light have transformed our yard’s nature.
Florida Power and Light strategically closed shades, and the air conditioner now compensate for the lost energy-absorbing biomass.
Precipitation now cascades off the lot, flooding the roadway instead of being absorbed into the ground.

Compared to the textured, living, variegated greens that responded to weather and seasons, it’s like a bleached-out, old, dead bone. Not exactly captivating.

So, I don’t mind the closed shades on the sunny side during the scorching part of the day.

Beyond the Lot

Without the green canopy, I’m amazed at what I can now see:

More of the eastern horizon, harboring magnificent storms brewing on the Atlantic shore.
Beautiful sunrises that paint the sky with vibrant colors.
Traffic, giving me a heads-up before I back out of my driveway.
The neighbors, providing an interesting diversion from time to time.
And how much more visible I am to others. 🙂

Amazed

Here’s what amazes me:

That 15 large semi-loads of biomass once thrived on this small Florida lot.
A few men, a couple of machines, and a little diesel fuel removed that much biomass in just 2 days.

Imagine the tools, energy, manpower, and time needed to obliterate small lots like this globally. It’s no wonder every ecosystem on Earth is in trouble.

We might be clever little monkeys, but perhaps not too smart.

Arrogant

Initially, I thought losing my own little nature preserve would be depressing. I considered getting angry about not being able to purchase and protect it and possibly resenting the new neighbors.

Surprisingly, none of that happened. Why?

Living on my cleared, suburban lot.
Sitting in my grid-connected, air-conditioned home.
Growing exotic plants that require water pumped from my well.
And writing this on my computer.

It became evident that denying someone else the same right to their own little slice of paradise is ludicrous.

I’ve often chuckled when someone draws a line to prevent future change immediately AFTER they’re on the other side. This part of my personality probably kept me from behaving badly. 🙂

As a geologist, I’m aware of how dramatically things can change through time. Nothing lasts forever. That undeveloped lot provided a pleasant environment while it lasted, and I’m thankful for that.

Future

I’m an optimist:

Eventually, the virtual tailings pile will transform into a new home and some green landscaping.
Maybe the new neighbors will be as fantastic as our other neighbors.
Perhaps even some wildlife will return once the disruption subsides.
And by contrast, our green yard looks more lush and attractive than ever.

Just saw a snake in my yard. So, there’s always hope. And I’ll be looking for my gopher tortoise friend to return.

In the meantime, I’ve now got a great view of the fireworks this 4th. Think I’ll just enjoy it. 🎆

✨

Cheers, D 🌴🌊