Changing Landscapes

I grew up in the same house from the time I was three. It's the only one I remember. My parents lived there for decades after I left and I was there often. But I never got to say good-bye and that's always bothered me. I'd planned a last visit before they moved, but circumstances (you're familiar with those, right?) kept me away.

Many years later, my husband and I were driving past that area and decided to take a small side trip just to drive by my old house. I barely recognized it. The trees and shrubbery I expected to see were gone, probably having overgrown their welcome. The house was painted a different color. Basically, everything was wrong.

In fact, if I had driven down the block without knowing where I was, I might not have recognized my old neighborhood at all, what with various additions and ... well, age.

It didn't spark warm memories; it was disappointing. Thomas Wolfe was right--you can't go home again.

We've lived in our current house for nearly forty years. During that time, lots of new housing developments  have appeared. Friends who grew up here moaned about how we were losing all the open land, places where they used to play or even ride horses. I didn't have that emotional attachment to the land and, really--people need places to live.

But I'm finding that I've started to have some of those feelings myself. Houses have been put in places where I didn't know there were places. I swear someone has done aerial photos and every time they find an undeveloped area, figure out how to build on it. "Look, if we put in a half-mile drive way we could squeeze three, maybe four houses in this section here."

I'm thinking about all of this now because the large property across the street from me is under construction. Past the field and up a rise was a mansion originally built in 1850 as a summer home. It eventually became a resort hotel, then a boarding school for special needs adults. That closed years ago, but the view out my kitchen window was the same.

The large trees bordering the extensive yard disappeared in a few days. Then lots of dirt was removed to flatten out much of the land, including the hill where my kids sometimes sledded. It  looks so bare. But not for long, I'm sure.

The mansion and other buildings were removed while we were away and the emptiness of it all was a shock when we returned. I never even saw the mansion that much due to the trees and I can't believe I miss it.

I was feeling a bit sad and was just about to moan about unwanted changes when I caught myself.

I mean, people need places to live  .... right?