It’s happened again.
My workplace moved into the current facility in 2005. It still feels like the new place in many ways. When I was working my beloved three-at-least-twelve-hour shifts per week, I would spend my precious break time outside.
Strictly speaking, in the cab of my truck. A diet cola in the summer while sweating. A coffee in the winter while shivering. The radio would pull in signals from all over. Ours was very nearly the newest within its industrial park. We moved from a neighborhood strip center we eventually took over outright. In those days we did more dollars per square foot than any other similar company in North America.
I would look out over the moonlit prairie. The only obstructions being a fast food restaurant on the corner and the traffic light at a major intersection, marking the city limits, about a half-mile away. The next town over about eight miles down the highway, was the eastern limit of the range of the diamondback rattlesnake. Somewhat further out the range of the western coyote. These were mere curiosities. Whenever a rattlesnake would actually be found in Elgin, Texas, it would make headlines for a day.
The prairie is now filled with buildings as beautiful and exciting as in any industrial park anywhere. Miles to the east of us have been infilled with empty condos, tract housing and pad sties. The lonesome four-lane highway is becoming the basis for a toll road which the state promises will mitigate the congestion created by its construction.
I see a coyote about once per week. They are very respectful, as am I. On four occasions a proper rattlesnake has been spotted on the grounds, twice at the formal entrance. No one will do anything about the snakes unless they are found indoors, or pay a professional who typically denies that such a beast could possible make its way this far west.
Noise, all noise. I know I would see these kinds of changes, but not quite so quickly.