There is a place near the river, where I live, that used to be a forest. I used to go walking there. The light filtered down through the trees, into the deep, green shade where I walked. Kestrels and red tailed hawks prowled above the branches near the edges of this wood. Deeper in the trees, delicate wildflowers blanketed the earth beneath the ferns in the spring. Now and then, deer would leap from the sheltering brambles as I walked. Musk rats, otters, and beaver glided through the lazy water of a clear and sparkling stream that wound its way through here. Trout darted from beneath the grasses bending out over the water from the shore. It was beautiful.
Last spring, bulldozers and loggers and heavy equipment came in and mowed it to the ground. They left muddy tracks and a flat wasteland behind them. I heard the land was being... "developed."