It is an undeniable fact that trees make a street look nicer, feel safer, and thus seem much more enticing for walking around. We live in a place, unfortunately, in which people are permanently locked in their cars as it is. And adding to that, there just aren’t enough trees.

Now, I know that I’ll contradict myself somewhat in my arguments for a more cosmopolitan Norfolk. I actually am for the construction of tall buildings and high-rises. While cities like Copenhagen–ranked the second most liveable city in the world by Monocle–have successfully instilled no-skyscraper rules to remarkable and intimate effect, lowland regions in America really have to take an opposite stance. For instance, in places like Denver and Colorado Springs, the sprawl of gorgeous–if absolutely identical–suburban homes reaches so far across the beautiful landscape that it’s hard to tell exactly when you’ve gotten into the city (a fact that Eric Schlosser points out even in Fast Food Nation). We, in our sea-level region of Hampton Roads, also tend to build outward rather than upward. With all this space, we seem to reason, why not all live in rows of happy little McMansions all the way to the coastline?

The problem is we lose places like the Back Bay Wildlife Refuge. And farmers in Pungo lose their land. And NAS Oceana goes under threat of closure because of development surrounding their airstrip.

The only way to stop pushing back the Green Line and to preserve what little green space we have left in this region is to build higher. Which is where I contradict myself. Because along with the construction of these new towers, which will certainly inject downtown Norfolk at least with the sense of place that a city ought to have, is the tearing down of trees and shredding of parks.

For the summer Jesse and I have been staying in a building downtown that overlooks a slice of greenery that I believe is called Flatiron Park. It is the the narrow, triangular little section of trees and flowers between Charlotte and Bute Streets off of Granby. When we first moved up here, there was pretty heavy construction being done on Granby and Charlotte in preparation for the light rail station to be built on Monticello. The construction bled over into Flatiron Park–the “progress” of which is featured in the series of pictures on the right. Though it was a nuisance, the trenches being dug and new systems being laid are also a necessity–and of course light rail is another major element that will bring Norfolk finally into this century. (A perfect model, in fact, of how such a mass transit system could work for a geographical region like Seven Cities is the RTD system that services the entire Denver region.) Before the road construction started, the City and the DNC held an open-house meeting for business owners and residents of the affected portion of Granby, which included Granby Theater, 456 Fish, Bodega, Scotty Quixx, Sirena and Baxters, among others. One business owner talked about the potential for Flatiron Park, which he explained was once a skinny building not unlike the famous Flatiron Building in New York. The conversation didn’t really come to any conclusion, and thus, this is what we’ve witnessed has happened to the pretty and forgotten little green space.

Yesterday we watched another rare area of greenery get torn up to make way for the TCC Student Center. Again, the influx of students and professors traversing Granby Street in the center of downtown Norfolk is a very good thing. And the plans for the Student Center show a smart-looking campus building. Yet watching the trees ripped from their roots caused such a sting in our hearts. Why does it seem to have to be one or the other–trees and flowers or brick and mortar? Can a city have a decent proportion of both? Will Norfolk emerge as a cosmopolitan regional center boasting tall buildings, light rail, and pedestrians walking on tree-lined streets?

A few downtown construction projects:

A rendering of the Student Center. tcc.edu

The abandoned Granby Tower

Mid-construction Wachovia Tower