Long long ago, in a land filled with lower costs and a better off economy, my parents purchased some land in a cul-de-sac of Candelight Hills in Spring, Texas, where the weather is hot and the street names all have a common motif of “Candle.” There, they built the house where I have resided all of my life. The subdivision was originally surrounded by dense woodlands, where deer could occasionally be seen examining the road. My elementary school, Haude, was just down the road. On the weekends, I would occasionally force a family member to ride their bikes with me to the school, using the back way down the ditch behind my house and up Haude road. Sadly, the trees in front of my subdivision were torn down and replaced by a gas station. Like much of Spring, the wilderness was driven out to be replaced by shopping centers and excessive concrete.