Building and trees

Yesterday it was cool enough for me to finally take my trike down to the outdoor mall/Target, so since I needed to pick some paint up at Jo-Ann's, I did. The trip had some delightful things -- two baby alligators, one tricolored heron, various ducks, and a turtle -- and one grief induced moment: a section of the west side of the road, which had been thick with oaks and pine trees and rich greens, had been struck down. The remains of the trees had already been dragged away, and what was left was machines staring at the now open area, hungrily.

It was one of the last wooded sections left on that side of the road.

The signs say it will be turned into houses. Rationally, I suppose, I should be slightly happy about this: it's a sign that our local economy is bouncing back, that housing is back, that people will have solid jobs in construction again. So, yes, that's good. Only one small, small counter to that:

We live in a place of empty houses.

Oh, it's not quite as bad as it was three years ago, where seemingly every other house was on the market. Still, the area has a lot of available homes, and that's just my local neighborhood: there's still more over in Ocoee and Clermont and up in Apopka and down in the Dr. Philips area. Spreading out, the greater Orlando area has a lot of available housing stock. Closing back in, the area has at least two areas I am aware of that were cleared for development, with trees cut down and utilities installed, shortly before the housing market collapsed. And that's just within trike distance. The empty houses include older homes, newer homes, townhouses -- houses with charm, cookie cutter houses, houses with various amentities, houses built to withstand storms.

I see this again and again: going for new construction -- houses, strip malls, whatever -- instead of using the already existing construction. I'll be honest: sometimes this is to my benefit. If that State Road 50 mall project gets going (it was stopped by the housing crash) it supposedly will have a movie theatre that I can get to all by myself, at least in the winter, which would be awesome, though given movie's unpredictable effects on me, I'd still have to be pretty careful. Then again I could just leave without having to wait for people.

But it also means losing trees. Daniels Road used to be bursting with them, with green areas that helped clean the air and human souls. Now there are carefully planted trees between houses and strip malls. Fortunately, green and rural areas remain just a little to the west, a mile off, still within reach of my trike. But I can't help wondering how long they will remain.