Isn't That a Pity, by Dick Kraus
I got annoyed by the vandalism that I was seeing occur almost daily, at a little local park where my honey and I take our daily power walks. It pissed me off enough that I dragged out my digital camera and shot some photos. Even though I've been retired from my newspaper photographer's job since 2002, I still tried to make the photos interesting. Then I sat down and wrote a little bit of prose to go with the pictures. I formatted everything in Dreamweaver and uploaded it to my personal web site. Then I called the newspaper for which I had worked for 42 years and offered it to them. It was truly a nice local piece and I thought they'd be interested. But, they weren't. Isn't it a pity. Oh, yeah. That's also the name of my piece. Maybe you will enjoy it.
Dick Kraus
ISN’T IT A PITY?
By Dick Kraus
They put up bird houses about 12 feet up on some of the tall trees that lined the asphalt walking path in this lovely passive park in central Suffolk. A few months later we spotted the shattered remains of most of them lying at the base of each host tree. Isn’t it a pity?
We couldn’t understand why anyone would want to destroy the good intentions that went into the building of these refuges for the local birds. The park itself was donated to the public by a tiny, incorporated village. I purposely avoid mentioning the name or location in order to avoid making it a magnet for more destruction. It is a lovely bit of greenery, a little more than a third of a mile square, utilizing the natural assets that existed here before it became a park. The only additions were the fencing in of the boundaries, a small parking lot, an asphalt path through the trees, and some simple wooden benches, clustered in groups of three and scattered throughout the park. It was situated in the midst of some very up-scale homes that probably sell in the high six figure range. It is open to the public from sun-up to sundown and it is the absolutely perfect place for us senior citizens to take our power walks. That is how my darling and I began to notice the vandalizing that was taking place. Isn’t it a pity?
Graffiti began appearing; first spray-painted names or initials on the asphalt path. Then the defacing graphics began to sprout on many of the wooden benches. The Village workers made an effort to scour the paint from the property. They did their best but the bleached areas on the wooden planks still bear testimony to the criminal acts performed there. And, even then, though the slate was erased, it just became a clean canvas for a new assault of graffiti. Isn’t it a pity?
The last straw occurred recently when the two of us waited for the heat of the day to dissipate and we took our walk in the cool of the evening twilight. This is the time of day that I love the most. There is a soft, ethereal quality to the fading light that artists and photographers call “magic light.” The trees really didn’t cast any shadows and the path ahead kind of faded into the dimness. But neither the dimness nor the beauty of the evening could hide the results of another onslaught of vandalism. The beautiful hosta plants that were carefully planted by park gardeners to merge with the wild growth on either side of the path were now mangled and torn; many of them uprooted and just left to wither. Trash cans were overturned and broken tree branches were littered throughout the park.
It’s a good assumption that all of this was the work of youngsters who probably reside in this upscale community. This isn’t the act of some impoverished and underprivileged kids who are venting their frustration at the inequities of life. This was obviously the actions of children who have too much of everything except a sense of responsibility.
Now, isn’t THAT a pity.
Photo and Text © Dick Kraus
Dick Kraus
ISN’T IT A PITY?
By Dick Kraus
They put up bird houses about 12 feet up on some of the tall trees that lined the asphalt walking path in this lovely passive park in central Suffolk. A few months later we spotted the shattered remains of most of them lying at the base of each host tree. Isn’t it a pity?
We couldn’t understand why anyone would want to destroy the good intentions that went into the building of these refuges for the local birds. The park itself was donated to the public by a tiny, incorporated village. I purposely avoid mentioning the name or location in order to avoid making it a magnet for more destruction. It is a lovely bit of greenery, a little more than a third of a mile square, utilizing the natural assets that existed here before it became a park. The only additions were the fencing in of the boundaries, a small parking lot, an asphalt path through the trees, and some simple wooden benches, clustered in groups of three and scattered throughout the park. It was situated in the midst of some very up-scale homes that probably sell in the high six figure range. It is open to the public from sun-up to sundown and it is the absolutely perfect place for us senior citizens to take our power walks. That is how my darling and I began to notice the vandalizing that was taking place. Isn’t it a pity?
Graffiti began appearing; first spray-painted names or initials on the asphalt path. Then the defacing graphics began to sprout on many of the wooden benches. The Village workers made an effort to scour the paint from the property. They did their best but the bleached areas on the wooden planks still bear testimony to the criminal acts performed there. And, even then, though the slate was erased, it just became a clean canvas for a new assault of graffiti. Isn’t it a pity?
The last straw occurred recently when the two of us waited for the heat of the day to dissipate and we took our walk in the cool of the evening twilight. This is the time of day that I love the most. There is a soft, ethereal quality to the fading light that artists and photographers call “magic light.” The trees really didn’t cast any shadows and the path ahead kind of faded into the dimness. But neither the dimness nor the beauty of the evening could hide the results of another onslaught of vandalism. The beautiful hosta plants that were carefully planted by park gardeners to merge with the wild growth on either side of the path were now mangled and torn; many of them uprooted and just left to wither. Trash cans were overturned and broken tree branches were littered throughout the park.
It’s a good assumption that all of this was the work of youngsters who probably reside in this upscale community. This isn’t the act of some impoverished and underprivileged kids who are venting their frustration at the inequities of life. This was obviously the actions of children who have too much of everything except a sense of responsibility.
Now, isn’t THAT a pity.
Photo and Text © Dick Kraus
posted by AMY at 4:35 PM
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