Visions

It took an hour to get there.

The ride was jarring; bumps, scrapes, squeaks, scratches. Then the rocking to a stop.

In the hills of greenery, enclosures of concrete. Once it is developed, no one will believe it was once this.

Not once they see concrete and tarmac, motors and cycles.

For now, it will be green. Sound will carry, from far away, passing cars, yelling children and the odd vehicle.