A narrow strip leads you into a place you’d never think could’ve existed among the metropolis around you. A portal into a lush dimension surrounded by trees and foliage encroaching on the little strip that’s holding you to what you previously had thought the little world you live in looks like. Filled with mystery—never knowing what sort of creature might scurry up one of the tall evergreens or chirp a mysterious song. In other words a trail was a complete escape. At least, that’s what I’d thought a hiking trail should look like.

Instead, the “nature trails” by my house are more like a constant reminder of the metropolis around me than an escape from it. The brass letters on the sign on the entrance to my neighborhood read “Lakemont Woods”. I always think that name should’ve been changed to something more like “concrete corner.” There sure does seem to be a lot more of that than “woods”.

“Lakemont Woods”, was made to be a “street of dreams” neighborhood. In many ways, it is. The house that I reside in, as well as the houses around me, are a lot nicer than most people could even dream of having. It is a relatively new area, and the houses open floor plans are filled with top of the line stainless steel appliances, and pearly white walls that look as though they could never wear down. The streets are paved with pothole and scratch free asphalt and have a single cottonwood or maple tree placed evenly along the sidewalks. These meager trees seem to be one of the last ones standing though. No neighborhood, even “street of dreams” neighborhoods aren’t completely free of potential nightmares.

Three times a day, I walk my dog. If it’s not raining, or I don’t have anything really important planned, you can usually find us exploring every nook and cranny “Lakemont Woods” has to offer. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much. Almost all the streets in our neighborhood look relatively the same. Generic looking mansions are lined up one after the other, with only the single cottonwood or maple tree that had been spaced out, or bushes lining my neighbors front yards to give the neighborhood that “woody” feel its name seems to imply.

The only real woods I’ve discovered are those a couple of blocks off the main “Lakemont Woods” roads and onto the “nature trail system: or “Lewis Creek Park”. “This is what they said ‘Lakemont Woods’!” I had exclaimed aloud upon first discovering the trail marker at the end of the perfectly paved street. I closed my eyes and imagined the majestic evergreens and mysterious creatures waiting to be discovered within the trail.

To my astonishment, when I opened my eyes the picture didn’t go away. Evergreens that touched the clouds, cottonwoods that brought a sense of fragility to the place, as well as many other types of plants and trees I didn’t know about, all formed an arch over my head, shielding me from the concrete world I was leaving behind. While the “street of dreams” homes that made up “Lakemont Woods” were beautiful in their own manufactured sort of way, nothing could beat the creations and fresh feeling that came along with being immersed in nature. The “Lewis Creek Park Nature Trail System”, seemed like a place that might actually live up to its name.

This feeling however, didn’t last for long. Not even ten steps onto the trail, and I was already faced with the reality of how successful the builders of “Lakemont Woods”, had actually been with building there “street of dreams”. Not only did they build my neighborhood, but blocks upon blocks of other mini mansions. Look to the right where you’d think you’d think more forest would be and you see houses. They were like blocks of breaks in the bliss of the trail, a new reality of the deforestation going on each time I saw one. To the left (where I kept looking to out of desperation) you see clear cut land that dry grass had begun growing on over the years with dirt trails crisscrossing over it that eventually led to a park, where children could be heard screaming the serenity that you’d usually associate with a “trail”.

While reading this you’re probably wondering why in the world I’d care about something as trivial sounding as putting up a few more houses. The population does keep rising after all, and new houses must be built to meet the demand. It’s not like all the trees in the vicinity are being cut down. I do live in the “evergreen state” after all, and they have to save some trees to keep up with that, as well as for the aesthetic appeal they provide. Who am I to say what people build is or isn’t right? I live in one of their constructions after all.

I’m not going to get all defensive and deny any of this. I’m sure there are plenty of people who aren’t even associated at all with the construction of new properties around “Lakemont Woods:” who could tell you with much more conviction that deforestation is bad, and “nature trails” (of all places) should be free of being encroached on by the suburbia that is my (and other peoples’) dwelling. I just think that if you’re going to call it a “nature trail” it should be sprawling with nature, and if there aren’t going to be many there should be more. Despite any amount of population growth, every person should be able to see a new lush dimension every once in a while, even if they do live on concrete corner.