I was stricken with sadness when I discovered the violent disruption of the Wildlife Sanctuary habitat on an innocent, unsuspecting "first day of spring" walk (Mailbox, April 13). What was once my uplift walk has now become my sorrow walk.
What gave me beauty and hope is now the site of my charnel ground training. Mangled branches, twisted stumps, hacked limbs everywhere. No chance for the wild sweet-peas and vibrant, cheerful poppies that were just beginning to get established along this trail last year: No sparrows scooting across the path in front of my feet. No nests for new babies. Its bleak. All in the name of progress. (Look out, Godwit Days!)
What folly the city leaders are engaged in to ignore the science of their own local marine biologists and sink $54 million into upgrading a 50-year-old waste management system that is clearly within the danger zone of projected sea level rise. Do they not think climate change is real?
Several "Trail Closed" signs gave no clue of what was about to happen, leaving an uninformed and unprepared community in stunned shock and silence in the aftermath. The violence and disregard shown the flora and fauna was echoed eerily in the disregard of the public. No meaningful dialogue with the community to prepare for the loss. The two "Trails Closed" signs scattered by Wahlund Construction, gave me no warning of the total annihilation to come.
A replant program? "Oh, it will grow back," was the casual, unconcerned response. Sure. In 20 years, but not in time for Godwit Days. The native red currant (Ribes) took about 18 years to grow her modest 2-inch diameter trunk. The battered crabapple might not even make it. This was not a skilled, professional "spring pruning" job. It was an execution.
Glenda Hesseltine, Eureka