Dean Poling
The Valdosta Daily Times
VALDOSTA —
Much will be written and said about the architecture of the new Lowndes County Judicial Complex. Yet, it is the change of perspective that catches my eye walking along the large windows of a fifth-floor hallway.
It’s rare to see Valdosta from this height, from this angle. On the other side of the building, from a judge’s window, Downtown Valdosta’s many buildings and streets are visible. A viewer can see the tops of several buildings, even a hot tub atop one roof. Cars travel along the James Beck Overpass. Far in the distance, the paper mill’s smokestack exhales a stream of smoke over Clyattville.
These are sites one would expect looking out a tall window onto downtown. It’s the other side, the windows along that fifth-floor hallway, that stop me in my tracks.
An unexpected Valdosta greets viewers from these windows. Yes, Ashley Street meanders north past the Dairy Queen sign. Cleveland Field’s lighting is visible in the distance. You can look down and see cars passing, a few people walking, a man on a bicycle.
From this vantage point, if you didn’t know better, a viewer may believe that’s all there is to Valdosta: One large street, a couple of side streets and a few buildings set in the middle of the woods.
Other than these things, looking out of these windows, Valdosta is nothing but trees.
You’ve heard the old saying about not being able to see the forest for the trees. Well, from the fifth floor of the judicial complex, a viewer can’t see Valdosta for the trees.
Row upon bunched row of green leaves, stretching for nearly as far as the eye can see. The field lights break up the green in the distance, so do a few other pieces of various structures.
Having driven most of those roads numerous times during the past 20-some years, I know Valdosta lurks under the trees. Houses, businesses, buildings, cars, parking lots, offices, street lights, traffic lights, people, lawns, and more are all under the trees.
But you can’t see them. On a clear day, you may be able to see forever. But on this clear day, from a fifth-story window, Valdosta is overgrown with trees.
It’s a strange sensation. Through the years, I’ve noticed the number of trees that have disappeared throughout the city. For several years, it seemed, a new swatch of land had been cleared every time one turned around. Even now, with the building boom gone, you can still run across areas where large pieces of land are cleared for some new construction.
Driving past once-wooded locations, it seems Valdosta has been shorn of far too many trees. Perhaps, the city has.
So, it’s a comfort knowing from the fifth floor of the judicial complex that Valdosta resembles a great cathedral of trees. Our city is blessed to still live under a canopy of green.
Dean Poling is The Valdosta Daily Times assistant managing editor.
