Sometimes you are the tree

When I lived in Korea, I frequently saw pruning of trees along side the road. The branches were systematically removed until all that was left was a very long trunk with what I would call a branch ball at the top. The trees, so severely denuded of foliage, looked like so many stumps that were just extruded on the spot. This pruning was done in the fall of the year, after most of the leaves had fallen.

I wondered why they would do this. It seemed a particularly harsh thing to do. The trees looked like grand old ladies who had had their wigs removed - there was something of majesty that remained, but there was diminishment and shame.

All through the harsh winter, these trees remained standing in their forlorn state.

And then, in the spring, something miraculous happened. Leaves started pushing out through the tops of these trunks. The tree, though dead to all appearances, was dormant. And when warmed by the gentle rays of the springtime sun, the life within could not be restrained.

Later, I came to own trees myself. I hated to prune my trees. I remembered how these trees looked when trimmed of their glorious branches, and I hated to do that to my trees. But I came to understand over the course of years of working with my trees that old woody branches harbor disease. New branches that were unruly and reached too high put undue strain on the branches below, often causing breaks that could have been avoided. And ultimately, I had a vision in my mind of how I wanted the trees to look, and I was the designer. The trees, if left to their own devices, would become wild, uncontrolled, unproductive, and probably would die.

Sometimes you are the tree, and sometimes you are the arborist.

I want to ride my bicycle; I want to ride my bike!

Starting the middle of last week, I decided that I would ride my bike to work. It's a relatively short (about 2.5 mile) commute, so I am not saving a ton of gas money by doing it. But it's more about the statement that it can be done.

Here in what is historically a fairly rural location, it would seem that people would be more interested in seeing this kind of option. But (good-natured kidding from my co-workers and friends aside) there is some real reluctance to move over. Last Friday in particular was just awful. I usually ride with the traffic, but I had to run an errand on the opposite side of the street and rode down the "wrong" side of the road. People were right on me before they moved over, if they did at all. Now, you need to keep in mind that there are no paved shoulders. I do ride a mountain bike, with big knobby tires. But it's still easier to ride on the pavement. There are no sidewalks, no walking/biking trails, no alternative. Just a 4" strip on which to ride. It was scary to see the looks on people's faces as they drove by me - and didn't give me any space...

Legally, bicycles are considered vehicles. Cyclists should be given appropriate right of way, which includes a 4' buffer. If it is impossible to pass safely, then do not pass. Just wait - you'll still get there... Maybe 15 seconds later... And regardless, you wouldn't want to cause an accident - that would really slow you up, increase insurance, and generally ruin your day.

I am hoping that with increasing gas costs, people will make more trips on their bicycles and walking. As we do so, more pressure may be brought to bear on policy makers to create bike-and pedestrian-friendly transit options.

Planning for the future

What is the future of our City? How can we best plan for it to make sure that we are able to meet needs of future generations? What guiding principles and objectives should we put in place to guide the development of our City?

One of the most consistent comments I get from people regards the desire of people to retain a bucolic ideal while allowing for the inevitable development. Cities are dynamic things. The political environment that prevails today may not be the same environment that exists in the future.

In the United States, we have always had a love-hate relationship with the bucolic ideal and the need to tame the wilderness. We long for a world gone by, perhaps a function of our immigrant status (which is perhaps why we love quaint European cities for their ancientness) while at the same time struggle to create something here that hearkens back to that ideal. We love the natural environment, but allow people to mow down trees and pave over fields of amber waves of grain. We have the world's first and finest national parks, but right outside the gates we set up convenience stores and motels to ease the weary traveller. At a recent visit to Zion National Park, I was stunned to see there was an IMAX theater set up right at the park's entrance. Can you imagine such a thing? Zion National Park, with some of the most beautiful scenery in the world, has an IMAX theater? Why?

This is just a symptom, the result of the way our culture has evolved. We don't want to go out and hike around and view the ACTUAL park; we want someone to do it for us - with the helicopter flyovers and the park rangers interpreting everything for us - while we sit in air conditioned comfort. So drive out to Zion and sit in a theater. What's the point of that? I could have stayed home...

The Ethical Function of a City

As part of my education, I studied a lot about the ethical function of architecture. I even had the opportunity to teaching assist a class twice on the subject. The long and short of the class was that the built environment (architecture) has an impact on the world and the people who live here. As such, architects have an ethical obligation to create buildings that are safe, useful, and beautiful (thanks, Vitruvius - you're still right). As planners, the same holds true.

But the function of city planning is much more complicated. Buildings are erected as monuments to the ideas of the architect and the desires of the owner. Thus, some buildings are more beautiful and monumental (a strong architect and supportive sponsor) or more efficient and inexpensive (a tight budget often leads to design compromises). In the case of cities, however, there are cities which are better, both socially and aesthetically. But cities are not the result of one person's dream and funding. Cities also take a long time to develop - hence the idea of a palimpsest. A palimpsest is an old type of paper that was used over and over again - paper was expensive and erasers not yet developed. So the top layer of the paper (or sheep skin or whatever) was simply scraped off and the paper was used again. But there was some penetration of the ink into the other layers, so a kind of faint ghost image of previous writing was still visible.

A city is like this - decisions we make now affect the way the land is used for generations to come.

Cities initially developed as places of society - people living in proximity for mutual benefit. People living this close to each other have concerns about health, safety, and general welfare, and thus turned to a government to help resolve these concerns. Modern zoning law evolved out of a general progression towards a restriction of uses in proximity (no iron smelting works near preschools, for example). This use restriction stems out of a need to regulate nuisances, health risks, and to promote environments in which people, businesses, and industries could thrive without undue intervention.

But there is a darker side to regulation. Too often there is an elitist faction that wishes to impose sever regulation on those who are disadvantaged. The "redlining" of certain districts in the early to mid part of the last century is the prime example of this. People in certain areas were unable to get mortgages or lines of credit for improvement. There was little in the way of public improvement. And all of this was generally focused on economic, race-based, policies aimed at the poor and people of color. It was ostensibly done to protect the property values of people in non-redlined areas. But the result was an overall degradation of these poor neighborhoods. These neighborhoods are still there, and still reeling from the effects of these policies. While there is now a federal law regarding these practices, the Fair Housing Act has had repercussions that were not intended.

What has happened is that developers have determined that the way to circumvent these regulations is to build big houses on big lots and charge a premium for them. They can add restrictive covenants to the deed for the lot that bind people to the disposition of the lot in perpetuity. People are legally required to cut their grass, park their cars in their garage, and remove trash cans from the street or face home owner's association (HOA) sanction and ultimately possible civil legal action. All of this leads to artificially increased property values, higher tax rates, and additional fees for the "privilege" of owning a home in the area.

Developers will claim that the use of deed restrictions is not universal and ethnically or racially discriminatory. Again, ostensibly this is true. But the reality is that the increase in cost effectively cuts off people from living in places they might need or want to live. For example, there are a lot of people who live in this area who are not able to afford housing because of the regulations that have been imposed both on the community level and the subdivision level.

So what do we do? How do we make sure that poor folks have a place to live? There are exponentially more poor than there are rich. And there is no way to easily classify these folks - some are white widows, others are new immigrants; some are old, others are young; some are white, but most are not.

Are these people just a net drain on our society?

I guess that depends on what you mean by that. If you base that decision on a purely economic basis, you are probably right in the short term. For a short period of time, these folks do not contribute as much to the tax base of an area as a rich person would. But long term, there are other significant problems with this kind of thinking.

There are things to be gained from living in proximity to people who have different backgrounds, ideas, and beliefs. Poor people offer the opportunity to serve and share. They have often learned from the crucible of hard experience that there are ways to get by on little. And often they have had the dross burned away in the fires of affliction, leading to a kind of refined nobility.

But if they are ignored and neglected, then the cancer that has become poverty in our society will continue to grow. Education is the key to all of this. It is the only chance for the poor, and it is the only salvation of those who have more. Countries are not judged on how their rich are sequestered in ivory towers and exclusive subdivisions. They are judged on how they care for their poor and disadvantaged. How are we doing?

The Beauty of a Tree

Here in East Texas, there is a strange substance unfamiliar to me. It comes right out of the ground, is generally green in color and hard and rough in texture. Sometimes it is very tall, other times not so much. Some have leaves, others needles. Oh, right. They're trees.

As I mentioned previously, I am from Utah. Moving to Mont Belvieu has brought many interesting new experiences, including the number of amazing trees and forests around. Utah's idea of a tree or forest is very different from Texas.

There is something about having trees in abundance that leads to a kind of contempt. In Utah, every tree is a cause for celebration and it is carefully tended and shepherded until it can provide some all important shade.

Here in Southeast Texas, the story is different. Here trees grow without planting and any other effort - it's really amazing. And while everyone appreciates a beautiful tree, not many people realize how many beautiful trees there really are around here.

I recently finished a conference on the value of trees. There has been much research done on the economic value of trees and the surrounding community. I would also like to highlight the aesthetic value of trees. I have seen landscapes completely devoid of trees and anything living. It's awesome and expansive and humbling. But you can't live there. Or even be there for long. People crawling through the old West deserts would look for trees because where there are trees, there is water, and where there's water, you can live. So ultimately, trees are life.

So while trees may not hug back, they give in every way they can.