09/04/2026
More important than ever... such a shame.
540 acres.
That is the size of the data center project just approved in Berkeley County.
540 acres that will never function the way it has for centuries upon centuries.
So I keep coming back to one question.
When did we decide that land has to justify its existence to us?
Why does a forest have to produce revenue to be considered worthy? Why does a meadow have to be built on before it’s seen as valuable? When they look at open space, why is the first label they always reach for “undeveloped” instead of “functioning,” “alive,” or “essential”?
Who taught us that if land isn’t extracting, producing, or profiting, it’s failing?
And I am not imagining this language. Listen to any Hagerstown City Council meeting or Washington County Commissioners meeting when zoning or rezoning is on the agenda. You will hear the same terms repeated. “Underutilized.” “Vacant.” “Opportunity.” Parcels are discussed in terms of yield, tax base, and projected output per acre. The framing is consistent and deliberate.
Because empty land really isn't empty. It is home to so many things that cannot advocate for themselves.
I think many of us simply haven’t had the chance to learn what truly surrounds us.
That the soil under us is alive with fungi trading nutrients with tree roots. That the canopy overhead holds generations of songbird nests. That our streams aren’t just water moving downhill but infact corridors for fish, insects, amphibians. That under every fallen log there is an entire world working quietly. That even the rocks scattered across a field tell the story of ancient seabeds and shifting land.
That’s where the awe begins.
Wildlife isn’t just something placed on top of land. It’s structured. It’s functioning. It’s an intricate, self-regulating system that has been refining itself for thousands of years.
Native bees emerge with the blooms of the native plants they rely on. Predators regulate prey populations and keep ecosystems in balance. Songbirds carry seeds across entire states. Salamanders break down leaf litter and help build and maintain healthy forest soils.
Nothing exists in isolation.
When you start to see it, it’s remarkable.
When we feel connected to something, we defend it. But many of us were never shown how extraordinary this is. Technology makes it easy than ever to look anywhere except outside. If we are not taught about what exists in our own backyard, its disappearance will never register as loss.
That is what concerns me the most.
Washington County has a finite footprint. There will never be more of it. In ecological terms, rezoning is permanent. Once hundreds of acres are blasted, compacted, and paved, that system WILL NEVER return within our lifetime.
This is not anti-jobs.
This is not anti-technology.
It is simply a question of this county's scale and direction.
How much is enough?
Where is the line?
What land is non-negotiable?
And are we asking those questions before approving the next 500 acres?
We created Wild WashCo because we grew tired of watching a new place each month up for destruction. Land from our childhood leveled. Subdivisions replacing the prettiest farm land you've ever seen. The same ornamental trees planted in rows. All the mature tress gone. Mowed lawns where functioning ecosystems once stood.
We are here to document what remains and to educate about how breathtakingly complex and intelligent these systems are. To show that wildlife is not background noise. It is engineering. It is chemistry. It is beauty layered on top of function.
We are paying attention.
We are listening.
And we care deeply about how decisions made today shape the land future generations will inherit.
Our children deserve the chance to experience nature the way we did. The way our parents did. The way their parents did.
That should not be something we lose.
Because once it is gone, it does not come back.
And if we are the generation standing at the line, then we need to act like it.