When a Small Town Grows
Nothing’s the same anymore. The place has become unrecognizable. Long gone are the old mud houses and small structures. Now, there are buildings with green or red roofs everywhere; signs of the rapid changes taking place in the region.
Though I hope to never see a skyscraper, who’s to say there will never be one? After all, legal rules also change with the times.
The mountains are no longer sacred. Hoards of people with their backpacks strapped and phones out climb them. As if they are afraid of losing their way, they leave behind plastics and papers on the trails.
As I struggle to keep up, I grow afraid that I won’t be up to scratch. When everything’s changing, I remain the same, uneasy about the transition.
And this is just the beginning.
I fervently hope for something to cushion the blow of what awaits.