Monday, March 12, 2012

Scott Township Park

     I have been going to my township's park since I was a baby.  I used to practically live over there, as it is only about a two minute drive from my house.  Many great memories of baseball, swimming, recreation, tennis, graduation parties, holidays, family and friends have been formed at this place, but as the park undergoes continuous change I fear I will not be creating such wonderful memories much longer.  I visited the park less than two months ago, and the area has endured a major, extremely unfortunate change since then.  When I went with my mother over spring break to take pictures for my trashed nature project, I discovered that the added garbage was not as appalling as the insane amount of removed foliage.  We harm Earth with our waste, but removal of nature all together is even more harmful to the dying planet.  The useless stage (the newest construction project done in the once wooded area) looks wonderful, aside from the graffiti, but the handful of young evergreens planted around it are dying. This makes me wonder what is going to be different about the couple of twigs recently planted down by the baseball fields that seem to be the excuse that made it okay to cut down half of the healthy trees in the entire park.  Add what you want to the space - new basketball courts, a stage, some more cement - but you cannot have a park without a park.  A parking lot does not count.  And the graffiti on the stage reveals what the once beautiful, natural space is today - disrespected rubble.  There is no sign of future intentions with the recently cleared space, and, judging by the few stumps left that have not yet been turned into a pile of wood shavings, the trees were in great shape and ready to live decades to a century more.  The trail that I was hoping to go on for my photographs didn't appear to exist anymore (which is a shame, especially because I liked seeing the bridge along it that a good friend built as a project before reaching eagle scout status), so I settled for trekking through some nearby brush on the hillside behind the park, took my photographs, collected some of the subject matter, listened to the sound of a woodpecker, and headed back to the car.  Before leaving, I could hear the cry of a lone hawk, emulating the park's weary call for help. (The last photograph of this blog post is an establishing shot of my dismay).


So close, yet so far

Deer tracks

Not your average twigs




The line of decay


Parallel lives

Beauty is just a layer

"I speak for the trees!" - The Lorax

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