February 28th, 1968 marked the date Boyce Brandon Harris (my octogenarian widower father) purchased a small tract of land
constituting shadowed sliver once hailing, hallmarking, harkening, glorious vast "Glen Elm" estate, which circa 1910 encompassed
a hundred plus acres of woodland Pooh would Winnie (including a pond frequented by migrating Canadian Geese) eventually zoned for commercial,
industrial, and residential development (all in the name of productive land use) particularly put into motion courtesy Donald J. Neilson,
who transformed expansive woodland rivaling shutterfly sprouting like mushrooms towed stools booming explosively
after ample precipitation little houses on the hillside little houses made of ticky tacky... popped up overnight
transforming landscape displacing flora and fauna with vinyl city (minus spit of property papa bought) manicured bumped uglies with wild wisp
reduced pristine niche leftover jot haven squawking disoriented geese instincts thwarted, where drained wetlands a Arcadian past suburbanization
overlaying (palimpsest like) rural setting trademark bucolic print Currier And Ives stock in trade signature prints landscape sparse human population
country aire sprinkled with family farms fresh dairy, produce, vegetables butchered animals free ranging without synthetic injections
nostalgia faintly recreated here Highland Manor Apartments Schwenksville, Pennsylvania a slip of country revered
against a Paul Ling urbanization nothing appears familiar retracing roadways now major highways frequent moments breeds alienation familiar ground confusing, frightening, and perplexing.