more progess

In the early fall of last year I was saddened by some progress. A mile north of this progress, some new progress has progressed. An equally mountainous, if not more so, deposit of freshly chipped wood has sprung up. This pile doesn't steam gently in the early morning sun like the other. A cold, grey morning and a thin sheen of snow covers this heap. And the progress folks didn't even have the decency to grind down the stumps or pull them out of the ground. Rather it looked like these progress pushers had physically ripped the trees from the ground. They have left the jagged, frayed chunks of what used to be trees to stick out of the ground at odd angles. They appear to be halloweenishly-sharp teeth belonging to some hideous lamprey. One can only hope they're part of a greater plan to swallow up whatever will be erected over this gullet.
A couple years ago and another mile north of this act of progress was the original act of progress in the area. Acres were cleared for an ocean of cement. And a fucking church.