Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, but I think suburbia has helped rather than hindered the return of nature here in these parts of Texas. I’ve seen aerial photographs of this area circa 1950s — miles and miles and miles of clear-cut land, cut up into pesticide-ladened fields, with nary a tree in sight. Fast forward 50 years, and you have, as seen from the air, a sparsely-laid out but very extensive *forest* because, as I suspect, the house developers realized that homeowners actually *like* trees and will buy homes where there are trees.
I say this because yesterday I woke up early morning to do yardwork, raking up this past autumn’s leaves, which was *a lot* (they didn’t decompose as I thought they would — the winter was too warm and too dry), and I saw the finches do their rabid-flying thing, more squirrels than I can count, various corvids, and a beautiful hawk, which scared the living sh*t out of the aforementioned animals. And, what with spring being in the air (the Hubby and I even planted our veggies in the two lasagna garden box plots that we prepped last fall this weekend), then you’ll hear me drooly *spooge* about the Texas wildflowers in a few weeks.
Suburbia — good for nature. Funny that.