So, playing about on Google maps one day, you can imagine my shock and horror when I discovered what that exact spot on the creek looks like now.
|Red circle = my old house.|
It's a road. And a culvert. And naked, ugly red clay and asphalt. And this road doesn't even appear to be very necessary - there are a couple of houses back there, but why does it loop around like that? Was this one of those subdivisions gone bust in the recession? Is that big building or footprint or whatever it is on the left side of the road , one of those vestiges of corporate sprawl gone wrong? This is such a common story in the southeast, unfortunately.
The culvert is in the exact location of my magical place. My most cherished childhood landscape is underground, raped and destroyed for...apparently, nothing.
I used to think that this creek was the reason I decided to become a landscape architect. Now I know, for certain, that the destruction of this creek is the reason I MUST be a landscape architect, and prevent this from happening to any other grown up child of the creek. It is my calling, and my obligation to do so.