Dougherty Arts Center
Paving Paradise, 2004
RECEIVED Tue., Aug. 3, 2004
Dear Editor,
Changes on my small country road leave me feeling like a curmudgeon, digging in my heels against change and harking back to 15 years ago when I moved to this undeveloped rural valley. Apple orchards reigned, owls hooted and coyotes howled at night, coveys of quail browsed, and herds of deer moved between the hills. Neighbors spoke to each other.
Today everything is changed. Once wild areas are now filled with a phantasmagorical collection of French chateaus, California suburban palaces, and Tudor mansions. Fake thatched roofs and cobblestones line the road, busy with the pool cleaners, handymen, carpet and window cleaners, housekeepers, babysitters, and soccer moms.
A recent house for sale exemplifies the change. Costing $3 million, the house boasts of using "every inch" of the 2.5-acre parcel. The four-bedroom/three-bath house includes a bonus room and den, a swimming pool, barn, three-car detached garage, dog kennel, outside fireplace, extensive patios, horse "pastures," a riding arena, and an electronic security gate.
The valley has transformed into a fairy tale land of privilege, exclusivity, and wealthy accruements, and the destruction doesn't end. Under construction is an 8,000-square-foot house. Next door, a 10-acre parcel features a 7-year-old house that was stripped to two-by-fours and rebuilt, complete with private security fences.
The rural ambience, wildlife, and quiet have been replaced with ostentatious displays of wealth and status. Neighbors never wave or stop to talk. Luxury cars speed down the road. In their haste for wealth and status, owners destroy the uniqueness of this place, the natural setting, the roving wildlife, the undeveloped landscape.
Changes have to occur deep in a culture's values before wholesale exploitation of the land will stop. Toward what end are these monuments to success and wealth built? Is this really the way we want to distribute our resources and run our community?
Changes on my small country road leave me feeling like a curmudgeon, digging in my heels against change and harking back to 15 years ago when I moved to this undeveloped rural valley. Apple orchards reigned, owls hooted and coyotes howled at night, coveys of quail browsed, and herds of deer moved between the hills. Neighbors spoke to each other.
Today everything is changed. Once wild areas are now filled with a phantasmagorical collection of French chateaus, California suburban palaces, and Tudor mansions. Fake thatched roofs and cobblestones line the road, busy with the pool cleaners, handymen, carpet and window cleaners, housekeepers, babysitters, and soccer moms.
A recent house for sale exemplifies the change. Costing $3 million, the house boasts of using "every inch" of the 2.5-acre parcel. The four-bedroom/three-bath house includes a bonus room and den, a swimming pool, barn, three-car detached garage, dog kennel, outside fireplace, extensive patios, horse "pastures," a riding arena, and an electronic security gate.
The valley has transformed into a fairy tale land of privilege, exclusivity, and wealthy accruements, and the destruction doesn't end. Under construction is an 8,000-square-foot house. Next door, a 10-acre parcel features a 7-year-old house that was stripped to two-by-fours and rebuilt, complete with private security fences.
The rural ambience, wildlife, and quiet have been replaced with ostentatious displays of wealth and status. Neighbors never wave or stop to talk. Luxury cars speed down the road. In their haste for wealth and status, owners destroy the uniqueness of this place, the natural setting, the roving wildlife, the undeveloped landscape.
Changes have to occur deep in a culture's values before wholesale exploitation of the land will stop. Toward what end are these monuments to success and wealth built? Is this really the way we want to distribute our resources and run our community?
Sincerely,
Don Monkerud
Aptos, Calif.
Don Monkerud
Aptos, Calif.
