Relocating to the Land of Arborea included the hope of moving away from “de hood” and toward something approximating urban civilization. Not that the old hood was bad; it was relatively safe, generally quiet, somewhat green though that was quickly changing to macadam black.
But to live within walking distance of the crown surmounting the Emerald Necklace was a wonderful temptation. A forest in the city; gardens deeper than 5 feet; front yards populated with thick old trees valued for their intrinsic worth instead of seen inconveniences to sidewalk access.
What I didn’t know was this neighborhood is a test area to determine the effects of enclosing a neighborhood with deafening – and deadly – noise.
There is a zone in Arborea where seemingly the Masters of Transportation have declared a passive-aggressive war upon humanity by converging the worst of their noise machines onto one spot.
Walk the sidewalk in the morning and in orchestrated flow hear the following:
Underground sonic bombs pouring through the Earth…
Air borne jet thunder shaking buildings…
Cars and trucks speeding and shaking neighborhood side streets…
Thugs riding in their deafcars pulsating a base audible a block away….
This neighborhood is visually beautiful. Autumn showed colors in variety and quantity that would make the wildest color field painters wince. But the Masters of Transportation, the maniacs with driver licenses and the thugs are destroying Arborea by polluting it with a river of terrible noise.
