A Premature Requiem

I was feeling melancholy walking the Greenway this recently.

The area covered by the proposed zones and standards,
outlined in red. The Greenway and wetlands are at the
right edge of the area.

On Wednesday, the city held a report-out on the new "Form-Based Zones and Standard for the South District," which are to guide development in the currently open fields that surround the southern portion of the Greenway. These stated goals of project and the proposed regulations include creating walkable communities with connected streets and paths, while also preserving "important environmental resources" and designating a variety of acceptable, low- to mid-density housing types.

I can't fault the city for its attention to detail and how carefully they have solicited feedback from area residents and stakeholders, and it appears the consulting firm they have been working with has done a fine job of creating a vision for a nice place where people will want to live. They answered questions from area residents concerned about parking and speed limits, and reassured folks that there would be no tall or disproportionate buildings permitted.

But the slide they showed with a possible development plan--carving up every single open field and packing it with residential blocks and streets--was something of a gut punch. The tiny green squares left as "natural spaces" seemed...tiny.

I know, I have always known, that development would catch up to the edge of town. I've been told to assume that any open space in Iowa will eventually be developed unless it is bought and protected. The inexorable development of our state, with less than 1% of our iconic tallgrass prairie remaining, makes me appreciate even more those organizations whose purpose is to preserve and protect our natural spaces: Bur Oak Land Trust, with properties in and around Johnson County, and the Iowa Natural Heritage Foundation, throughout the state. 

You wonder if the narrow strips of habitat that will be left along the Greenway will be enough to lure our summer friends the Dickcissel and Eastern Meadowlark to stay and raise their families. Will all the building and bustle drive away the family of Sandhill Cranes that has made its home near the wetlands for a decade or more? Will the wetlands themselves, currently a birding hotspot, remain a draw for migrating waterfowl and shorebirds? What of all the new hazards faced by tiny baby snapping turtles as they try to cross more and wider roads?

It may be many years before all those fields are filled in. Maybe there will be quaint neighborhood shops and friendly people enjoying those walkable communities and appreciating the Greenway that remains. Maybe there will be enough open space still to tempt those Dickcissels back for the summer, despite the close proximity of attractively-proportioned human housing. Maybe the final design will offer more of an opportunity to share our habitat with those who were there first than the example slide showed. 

Maybe. Hopefully.

In the meantime, there is solace in the aforementioned land trusts, and our existing city and county parks and natural areas. We are fortunate to live in a place that, while not anywhere near balancing the needs of wildlife with those of humans, at least understands the importance of these natural places for humans, for recreation and comfort for our souls, and wildlife is able to reap some of those benefits in the incidental preservation of their habitat.

The city and its residents stand to gain a lot with the development of this area. But what we lose, we lose forever. Let's hope that the loss will be minimal, and all possible steps are taken to ensure it is so.

Sandhill Cranes foraging one of the fields slated for development.