A Thought About My Neighborhood on the Prairie

Just after sunrise we went for a walk. There's a park at the edge of our development. It's more of an open space, but only in the sense it hasn't been built on yet. There's a parking lot, a dog park, and two manicured baseball diamonds that are always locked up. I don't know who to ask for keys, but it's obvious they don't want us playing ball here without permission. There's a trail that doesn't really go anywhere, no picnic areas, and no playground, but there are plans for some.

I like it here, though. It's a quiet place to walk and think. Today was overcast, heavy clouds carrying the snow storm mounting on the front range. In a few weeks it will warm up. The rest of the grassland birds will return and some of them are interesting for watching and listening. This space is a vestigial artifact of nature. A doomed reminder of how the prairie landscape was and should be. It's also a poignant argument for how poorly designed our neighborhoods are. There's no designated paths connecting the dense sprawl of houses to the park, but you can see where they should be. Parts in the fencing, knocked down and stepped over, mark makeshift trailheads where bikes and runners wear out the grass along the contours. Recently, they started clearing ground for new roads. In time, maybe a year or so, all this space will be neighborhoods too. Maybe they'll leave room for some better trails, ones that connect to the pavement. But, I'll still have to drive to take a walk in the prairie.