Houston is gifted with a climate that, while not well suited to humans, allows for a bounty of natural beauty. The region’s relatively high rainfall and extremely long growing season (up to ten months) means there’s no lack of greenery. Houstonians don’t have to put much effort into lush, trimmed lawns and extravagant flowerbeds. Unlike other parts of the nation, Houston can afford to landscape its way to aesthetic highs.
However, it doesn’t seem that the municipal government itself has really subscribed to this philosophy. It doesn’t take much Internet searching to find people who talk down on Houston as one of the ugliest cities in the country. Other parts of the nation (and the world) speak of stereotypes that don’t fall too far from reality – wide expanses of concrete parking lots, vacant strip malls, schizophrenic utility lines, weedy ditches and decaying freeways. Unsurprisingly, when the New York Times named this city the #7 place to visit in the entire world for 2013 travelers, half of the comments section was dedicated to dismissing this sprawling, classically American town:
If I was offered a free ticket to either Hell or Houston, I’d start packing my flame-retardant pyjamas.
Life is too short to spend your vacation in Houston.
You pick Houston for #7?! Seriously?
That’s where to go when you ever want to feel depressed.
It’s an unfortunate stigma for the fourth largest city in the United States. There’s no doubt that Houston has its share of attractive areas. It may not have the scenic mountains and harbors of the major Californian cities, or the urban landmarks and cultural history of the New England metros. However, the city has enormous potential natural beauty. Canopies of broad oak trees, meandering bayous, lush lawns and extravagant gardens could transform the entire area’s image. Of course, once you go east and reach the port and Ship Channel, there’s no salvaging that mess of refineries and industrial parks. Still, the rest of the city could look completely different with just a bit more initiative from developers and, most importantly, the city government.
For most of the 20th century, Houston was so radically pro-development that there was little concern for preserving the natural features of the lands surrounding it. As I’ve discussed in previous posts, the city – with much assistance from the federal Army Corps of Engineers – stripped the numerous bayous that snake through the suburbs of any natural vegetation and straightened them into linear ditches. To this day, a vast majority of the bayous within the city, aside from the flagship Buffalo, remain lined with stained concrete and devoid of any fauna whatsoever. Take, for example, the White Oak Bayou, which straddles Interstate 10 on the final approach into Downtown from the west:
Keep in mind that the White Oak is one of the city’s largest and most important bayous, and its confluence with the Buffalo in Downtown is the founding point of Houston itself. As one drives on Interstate 10 to or from the city center, this bayou is incredibly visible as it runs parallel to the freeway for a significant length. For many visitors, one of their first scenic views after turning away from the skyline is the White Oak. Sadly, it acts as a precursor for the rest of the city’s depressing image, instead of an attractive centerpiece of a metropolis built on its rivers. Lined with discolored concrete, devoid of trees or trails. It’s barely a bayou. More of a ditch.
Now, I can understand the need for flood control in a region as swampy and flat as Greater Houston. This city would be radically different without the awesome might of the Army Corps of Engineers. The amount of work that’s gone on behind the scenes to allow Houston to sprawl across the prairie is truly an engineering marvel. However, the way that it’s been done over the last 70 years (the Corps began straightening bayous in the 1940s) is simply wrong. Flood control and natural aesthetics can be harmonized – trees are effective against erosion and other geological problems by their very nature. However, the various levels of government that have dictated the city’s development throughout its history have more often than not decided to completely decimate natural plant growth in favor of featureless concrete and grass. It’s a major reason why Houston has no image when it comes to natural beauty. This city could easily recreate Atlanta’s famous tree canopy – the climate certainly allows for it. However, drive around the city – especially out in the suburbs – and you’ll find more of the same old concrete and dying grass. Houston is one of those cities that loves to build avenues with wide medians – but then it just leaves them there. No trees down the middle. No flowers. Just brown grass. The same goes for the multitude of freeways – concrete from edge to edge. Only during recent projects, such as the reconstruction of the Katy Freeway, has the incorporation of the natural environment actually been a feature of the city’s infrastructure.
And with that remark, I can go on to say that the situation is improving. As the city matures and attracts more young people into the Inner Loop, the need for more aesthetic quality is finally reaching the heads of government. Some of the projects going on to revitalize Houston’s green spaces are truly exciting. The much publicized Buffalo Bayou Park along a stretch of the waterway west of Downtown will completely change the public perception of the city’s flagship natural feature, and encourage further development (and, subsequently, much needed densification) within the vicinity of the city center. Similar (yet much less radical) revitalization efforts are underway along other rivers, such as Brays Bayou. The city’s approval of a new system of trails will bring greater attention to the historically underappreciated bayou system. However, more needs to be done – especially outside of the 610 Loop. Houston needs to do away with its decrepit sprawl image if it wants to be taken seriously on a national level. We need more trees, and not just in obvious places like the banks of the bayous. The city’s wide avenues and highways could receive a much needed dose of nature. The western Interstate 10/Interstate 610 interchange is a good example of the type of landscaping that Houston’s concrete corridors need – under the web of ramps are a bounty of pine trees and even bike trails. It doesn’t feel like a conventional freeway junction, it’s wooded and green – and that’s the type of atmosphere this development-crazy city really needs. In my Energy Corridor post I mentioned the large oaks that line Eldridge Parkway, making it an attractive spot for pedestrians and mixed-use development. Sadly, so many of the roads that crisscross nearby are the antithesis of Eldridge – they’ve been stripped of nature and lined with weedy asphalt and concrete.
Houston has a great gift in its abundance of trees. They are what make our most attractive areas notable. Nature is the cure for the vices of power lines, concrete and development. It may be far too late to stop the sprawl – but we could at least make it look good. You don’t need mountains, majestic rivers or sparkling bays to make a city – rather, it’s all about making the manmade mix with the natural. Now, it’s Houston’s chance to finally make that happen, and make up for the decades of putting the manmade over everything else.
Alternate Amnesiac 