D.O.P.-T.

[weofodthignen]

It was hot and humid; the hills in the distance were that hazy dark gray, and a gunmetal cloud sat in the south for a little while—I hope that didn't mean Scotts Valley was on fire. I had some errands to run on foot so I headed out and got them done.

Two perfectly good houses have been demolished to be replaced. All that's left of this comfy rent house (1906, used to be painted a cheerful yellow with contrasting trim) is the hedges. All that's left of this pretty house (1920, and they got permission just last year to extend it in back) is the white picket fence, one rose bush, and an ailanthus sapling.

But there was a young person sitting waiting for a bus wearing an awe-inspiring Afro. She seemed genuinely pleased when I stopped and complimented her on it.

Comments

[altrinc]

It is shame that pretty little houses like this, that form the history and charm of the neighbourhood, are being lost. I particularly liked the 1906 house. Are there no efforts at a civic level to designate any for conservation? I can't help feeling that in a generation's time local people will regret all this destruction.

The city authorities should at least plant more street trees to compensate for the loss of garden space and cool the streets down in summer.

[weofodthignen]

Nope. And tremendous pressure from the state to build more housing. A few of the apartment buildings in the last couple of years have included moderate-income housing, with a lottery to apply, but at the cost of much of the low-to-moderate rentals we did have, and the one block that was left from the original downtown is now at the edge of a widening sea of new development deliberately built to create urban canyons.

This is the city that destroyed its founding mansion to put in a highway, and later shamefacedly reconstructed it elsewhere as a museum. This elegant farmhouse (there was an orchard behind it) was moved on rollers by the company that bought the land and is now used as some sort of summer house, presentation space, or catering facility for the swanky office building on its former site (on the left in this more recent view). If they use it at all. At least they gave it a lick of paint.

The city does put in street trees, or mandate them, but of course the new ones are still small, and they all seem to be one of three kinds: red oaks, something that has cheerful red leaves in autumn (these mainly along the couple of boulevard streets), and hornbeams. There's a lot of trimming of all street trees, because the city tends to keep the sidewalks (pavements) narrow and because all the cables are overhead. So the new trees don't do as much to make the new streetscape less strange as if they blooped all over and dropped stuff to the extent the old resident-planted ones like to do. And they're just hand-waving at the tree canopy concept; the major focus is on reducing water use. The houses that get torn down after being sold often had the garden ripped out and replaced with xeriscaping as part of the staging for sale.