Dire Straits was a British rock band that produced popular songs that I used to hear on the radio when I was in highschool — Twisting by the Pool, Sultans of Swing, and Money for Nothing. However, I never really got into them until I listened to a few of their albums.
Songs like Telegraph Road never got air time because it’s 14 minutes long; however it’s a masterpiece. Mark Knopfler gives us some hauntingly beautiful passages. The song does not feel long because the story it tells is so engaging.
There were several other songs I only heard on albums — Brothers in Arms, Romeo and Juliet, and Portobello Belle, etc. All of them were great. However, Telegraph Road really connected with my heart.
It starts off:
A long time ago came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a sack on his back
And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
He made a home in the wilderness
He built a cabin and a winter store
And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
And the other travellers came walking down the track
And they never went further, no, they never went back
And I picture a beautiful wild place. The living might be hard but the natural beauty makes it worth it and draws others.
Then civilization arrives:
Then came the churches, then came the schools
Then came the lawyers, then came the rules
Then came the trains and the trucks with their loads
And the dirty old track was the Telegraph Road
In the bustle of progress, wild beauty is lost. For a while, at least there are jobs, but then it all dies:
From all of these signs saying, “Sorry, but we’re closed”
All the way down the Telegraph Road
This song always fills me with a bittersweet nostalgia for places that have changed beyond all recognition.
One such place — the field behind my house.
When we first moved here, it would fill with Texas Bluebonnets in the early spring. These are the state flower and they are beautiful. Here is what the field looked like in early April.
We’d walk across this field with our cat. When we had a rainy Spring, she would have to gracefully leap over the flowers as they would grow past my knees. In places they grew so thick we couldn’t avoid stepping on them, though we tried.
At night I’d keep the bedroom window open so I could savor their sweet fragrance while I drifted off to sleep.
People would come from miles around to take photographs and our neighbors would play in this beautiful place with their children and dogs. The owner of the land was a Mexican immigrant who made it available for all to enjoy.
As the bluebonnets peaked and waned, swaths of the field became like a cloth of gold thanks to coreopsis.
I remember having picnics on a plush bright blue blanket surrounded by golden flowers and butterflies. We’d spread the cloth near a small cluster of trees that provided shade and partake of wine, cheese, bread, and fruit. When we were feeling fancy, we’d have pâté.
May also brought areas of Indian blanket. I would also find scatterings of wine cups, Texas primrose, and white prickly poppies.
A gravel path had been placed at the edge of the field — trees grew on the other side of this track. In the spring, the trees were draped with honeysuckle. In the late summer, sunflowers grew tall in the sunlit patches formed by breaks in the trees. Not only were these beautiful, the seeds provided food for the birds.
And there were plenty of birds as well as other local wildlife. They were drawn by the water of the creek that flowed nearby. Rabbits built their nests in hidden areas. Unfortunately, the water also brought coyotes. Despite this, I loved having a wild space so close by.
Then, in 2020 — they killed the field.
People kept moving to Texas and land prices in Austin skyrocketed. The field’s owner sold it for a huge profit and construction began.
A strip mall was built. Ironically, there is another strip mall less than half a mile up the road and a third just a little farther the other way. So we replaced a unique and beautiful place with a replica of any suburban shopping area.
My heart mourns for the loss of the flowers, the rabbits, the birds, the bees, and the butterflies. For the trees whose shade I miss. For the fragrance that wafted through my windows. Now I keep my windows closed.
The ecology that had taken generations to develop was gone in the blink of an eye and once the damage was done there could be no going back.
Neighborhood children and pets no longer have a field in which to run and play. There are no more picnics, no more meditative walks. Now there is black asphalt, gray concrete, and ugly, soul less buildings.
As in the Dire Straits song — we came to a place filled with beauty and destroyed it.
My heart is sad because of what I’ve lost, but happy that at least I got to enjoy it. Generations that follow will not have those treasured memories.
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This post was previously published on Shefali O’Hara’s blog.
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Photo credit: iStock