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9 | Friday July 2 8 , 2 0 1 7 | O A K V IL L E B E A V E R | w w w .in sid e h alto n .co m Letter to the Editor `Oncegreenspace isgone, it'sgone... you don't get a mulligan' Every city needs living comfort zones. One of my favourites was the horse riding academy nestled deep in the elbow of Burnhamthorpe Road just east of Neyagawa Boulevard. Even before we moved to Oakville, I would always make a point of taking the long way from Mississauga just so I could drive past. That feeling lasted right up to the moment when the storybook-pretty stables were torn down and the horses trotted away. All that re mains today is a towering pile of dirt. This was the first piece of the Oakville that we worked so hard to get to that' s no longer a part of the Town' s panorama. But the worst was yet to come. Much, much worse. When we lived in Mississauga, we would make the trek to Oakville once or twice a month. It was one of our favourite places. Mississauga was nice, but an epidemic of condos and townhouses finally became too much. So we packed up and bid a fond farewell to Square One, now lost within a skyward maze of glass and steel soda cans. With high expectations we put down roots in Oakville, and you didn' t disappoint. Some things took getting used to early in our relation ship, equivalent to leaving the toilet seat up. Little things like driving in the `U-turn capital of Canada' and traffic lights sequenced to defy all logic. But the trails, trees, fresher air and the shops and bistros of Lakeshore more than made up for it. We fell hard for the Oakville mystique. And Oakville held up its end of the relationship for a couple of years. Recently, however, our relationship is becom ing strained. And it was a golf ball that first start ed things rolling downhill. We had barely settled into our house when the rumours began that Saw-Whet and Glen Abbey might be switching from recreational to residential. I'm not much of a golfer, but rational ized that a golf course is still oxygen-processing nature, albeit impeccably landscaped and dotted with people chasing a little white ball. It' s a liv ing comfort zone for both golf enthusiasts and wildlife. Scores of birds, animals, reptiles and amphibians claim squatter' s rights at Saw-Whet and Glen Abbey or use them as a GPS to guide their travels. Rumour soon gave way to reality, and the first slice of Oakville' s living spirit was officially con demned. Saw-Whet will be stripped of its green skin, whittled into little pieces then cleverly re sold and rebranded as The Estates of Saw-Whet in real estate' s version of three-card Monte. I can already see the artist' s glossy rendering. Glen Ab bey might be next. With Saw-Whet' s fate now sealed, Glen Ab bey sits squarely in the crosshairs. Residents will transition from depression to acceptance as they fast-track through the stages of grief. So tomor row morning, when you're bumper-to-bumper on Bronte Road (or in the Dorval Drive/Upper Middle Road corridor), imagine even heavier rush hour traffic jams, along with more noise and pollution. And you thought the additional traffic flowing from Dundas made your workday commute or GO train run tough. The people who decided to gut Saw-Whet and those who are now eyeing Glen Abbey misinter preted their mission statements. When any city is fortunate enough to have an abundance of liv ing comfort zones and natural gifts, you are their guardians. You are not their fickle landlord, ea ger to evict them when a more profitable tenant shows up with paint samples and fabric swatches in-hand. Some of our living comfort zones are meant to be passed on to our kids, grandkids and great grandkids. It has nothing to do with hugging a tree. I reluctantly accept what' s happening around Dundas Street and Burnhamthorpe, but I cannot rationalize the necessity of sacrificing in-town greenspaces and animal habitats, even those purposed for a sport I don' t play, for more homes in already dense and environmentally-sensitive areas. Are we to believe that turning Glen Abbey, a golf course in the heart of the town, into housing is vital to the survival of a prosperous, more liv able Ontario? If you don' t care because golf isn' t your thing, then maybe more particulate matter, carbon monoxide, hydrocarbons and noise are. And if you consider golf to be elitist, then get ready to reset the bar on what elitist means once you see the premium you'll pay for a house on Arnold Palmer Place or Tiger Woods Way. Whatever is going on behind the scenes will play out regardless of all logic, species at-risk or protest. Decisions like these will always have their own brand of reasoning. To be fair to Oakville, the Town is very good steward of nature, better than most places I' ve lived, and are likely digging in for a scrap. But my previous postal code taught me that brick and mortar has an insatiable appe tite and makes a covetous neighbour. Environmental impact studies, even if done with a moral compass, don' t have a section for living comfort zone quotient. Nor do they concern themselves with the fate of Oakville' s animals. Never drive past an open field or a golf course on a rainy day and think them deserted, because they are not. Something alive relies on them for their next breath. Forests and fields weren' t enough apparently. Now Ontario' s fair ways and putting greens are in play, and are too easily become tomorrow' s sidewalks. On sleepless nights when I find myself grasp ing for worry, or when I am awakened by the drone of the aircraft now flying overhead, I think about another living comfort zone in Oakville. Will Bronte Creek Provincial Park be next? Before you dismiss the notion, could any one have envisioned the home of the Canadian Open being up for grabs a decade ago? It would be naive to think that half a dozen developers wouldn' t jump at the chance to shoehorn in a few hundred homes within Bronte' s pristine bor ders. I'd tell you not to laugh at the thought of building townhouses on the spot where campers roast marshmallows, but I doubt the people of Oakville are in a laughing mood right now. The definition of the word livability is under construction, and is being forcibly bent into to a less breathable interpretation. You can still own a home and buy your groceries in a town with far less field and foliage, but it comes at a price. Finding solitude in a backyard oasis or in the depths of a $5 cafe latte isn' t an option for some folks. Livability has to mean more than sacrificing too much greenspace -- in the city or on the pe rimeter -- for more bricks, seemingly blueprint ed with all the forethought of a toddler' s building blocks project. One reason we decided to move to Oakville was because we assumed that further develop ment in already established areas wasn' t possible. We were wrong. Did we let Oakville' s well-known charm lure us into a false sense of security, or did we simply overlook 18-holes of obvious? Maybe Oakville just has too many good things. And when you have something good, somebody always wants to take it away. But fighting the good fight is not always enough. So you change the conversation on social media to something more pleasant, like street festivals and the light ing of a Christmas tree. I enjoy those events too, but now watch as equally important Oakville in stitutions that don' t offer granite countertops are being stripped away. Our living comfort zones are as much a part of the fabric of Oakville as Towne Square, the Lakeshore Road architecture or the pier. And just like those institutions, they are a legacy for future generations and mean a lot more than the value of their land. Once any greenspace is gone, it' s gone for good. You don' t get a mulligan. Concrete should never be the only string that anchors a community to its future. Meanwhile, future development notices are sprouting like dandelions on our two-lane rural roadways as we continue to haemorrhage wild animal habitat. The convenience of the next power centre makes it easy to forget and forgive a lot, start ing with the fact that Oakville' s displaced coyote population should be regarded as symbols, not scoundrels. In my mind' s eye, before the bulldozers rum bled in, I was going to save that horse riding academy. I was going to win big in a lottery draw, keep the stables, and transform the property into a dog rescue and animal sanctuary. That was my promise to the lottery gods. Only they weren' t listening. Nobody is listening it seems. Alan D. Major, Oakville Thank You f o r n om in atin g us a s B e st A ccou n tin g S ervice YangA ccounting.ca C P A YY@YangAccounting.ca C R A R e-A sse ssm en t O v e rd u e T a x R e tu r n , A p p e a ls IR S N E W T a x T r e a ty f o r C a n a d ia n Buying? Selling? Re-financing? i p Jameson Glas Call us for a quote at 9 0 5 -8 4 5 -0 7 6 7 ext. 223 Experienced Professional Services for Individual Business & Corporation (647) 989-1276 1 1 -1 1 5 5N o rthS erv iceR d .W ,O ak v ille (289) 291-3924 Ying (Kimberley) Yang 1 8 thF lo o r, 2S t, C lairA v e. W ,T o ro n to (647) 255-8049 ijjg f | j| r f ( jjg f 1276 Cornwall Road, Unit C, Oakville Ontario, L6J 7W5 T:905-845-0767· F:905-845-5552 · w w w .h a x e llla w .c o m · la w y e rs @ h a x e llla w .c o m