Not a week after I write about my betrothed trail, do I get this big steaming pile of camel turd:
That, ladies and gentlemen, is what they’re gonna do to my number one, wifey, go-to trail. A boardwalk. Right smack dab in the middle of my tranquility locale. My home away from home. Where my brain goes to rest theta style for a while, while my stems do all the heavy lifting. And now they’re gonna be dumping a giant wooden goliath in the middle of it. I mean, the snap looks like it’s just gonna be adjacent – on the water – and that’d honestly be bad enough – but the article I read says it’ll go right up to neighborhoods and such as well.
I don’t like this change.
It feels like when I was still drinking and my favorite local watering holes slowly closed down one by one (probably for trouble I caused in them). That feeling I’d get then was that same one that kicks off a cascade of all the other I-can’t-deal-with-impermanence things in my mind, culminating at last in the reminder that we’re all gonna die and nothing lasts forever. Not even the National Heritage Scenic trail. Which is leading me to the same morose thoughts. Ironically, normally I’d take to my jogging path to relieve my pathos. Soon, I won’t even be able to do that without experiencing a constant auditory assault of construction equipment sodomizing the land and water around me.
This resistance to change might seem a bit hypocritical of me – as much as I champion trying new things. But, this just feels like a perversion of that. Because they’re building into one of the few natural things around here that doesn’t reek of technology having been there and pissed its territory mark in the form of loathsome manmade structures. I mean I like a bit of civilization familiarity reminders when I’m out making love to the forest with my feet – a bridge here and there on my trail jogs are nice. The fact that the path’s been cleared, even. Appreciate that. Thanks, guys. But this thing? That’s crossing the line. As I pride myself in solution-seeking, I wonder if I can start a petition against it.
’cause this fecal heap just looks like a Loch Ness monster made of lumber.
Also, zero point zero people in Woodbridge dress like Carlton.
