Gazing Across the Valley

Some days, as the train passes through these open fields, by dilapidated shacks and abandoned farmhouses, I try to imagine a time when the structures were new, a time when the farmers were thriving. Then I try to imagine a time before that, before the farmers developed the land, before they removed the trees and tilled the soil. What was this valley like then?

In a few years time, somebody riding this train won't even have the luxury of seeing only shacks, farmhouses and fields. Those will all be gone. When they pass through these parts, they will see tract homes, business campuses and acres upon acres of asphalt. It's the desire of developers to see this green valley destroyed and converted to gray and black. They'd like to keep the green for themselves. It's the same desire that is currently leveling the hills of San Jose to construct monster homes and condominiums, bringing the city a step closer to being like San Francisco.

Whenever I gaze across Coyote Valley, I’m saddened by the view to come, but grateful for the view I have.