The cloud stares melancholy as the gloomy morning touches the area of a habitat removed. The massive trucks, one by one, speeding and making little sandstorms as they pass by, unload limestones and rocks to fortify the crust for pavements and arrays of houses. But before the subdivision, these hectares of land were already a home....A backhoe operator hollered, at the time of clearing off the land, removing the old grasses and young trees, when he saw a cobra slithering at his foresight. The cobra seemed to know that the sun was like boiling water to her cold, sophisticated skin, yet unknown to the strangers, she was seen as a threat. It was a peculiarly hot day in the month of December. The kids were let go, indulging themselves on the squatted yard; the mother went to work as a laundry maid, and the father was busy talking with his newfound construction worker friend from the adjacent development. A young man of early 20s who looked like an extreme 30, approached the father and the group of his fellows to tell them that they had found a cobra.The father, who seemed a little reluctant to work, was seen with glowing eyes upon hearing the news. He was excited. Snakes were his favorite—that night, he would not care for his share of his friends’ inebriation. He would simply kill the cobra and cook it as their pulutan. The land was no longer green, for the massive machinery had turned it to a barren plain. The once swampy ecosystem has housed floras and faunas that could have turned itself into a forest someday, yet in the eyes of humans, a land with just grasses and weak trees is seen as useless and not arable, so they turned it into oblivion.Oblivion… the birds having removed from their generational source of food—the swap—had yet to realize that the world was no longer home. These swamp birds started to brave the roads just to find nesting grounds to go on. They would not know how to stop living. Some kids took the fun of playing games with the birds. Kids did not know about their importance in the environment, and no one knew. Kids would chase them, and the birds, who did nothing, startled, thus hid back in some grass that had grown by people in the residential area near the development. The kids would devise weapons such as slings or even with fake guns; some young birds, who haven't grown wings yet, were fallen victims. The kids would love to eat them, as humans are fond of eating dead animals, yet the adults would shame them, saying that their prize had no meat; so, most of the time, they were thrown away with the dumped pebbles and sand.The rotten smell of dead animals was not much of an issue when the land, now developed, was still in its normal condition. The ecosystem itself would decompose the dead animals until they became carcasses. Even the cutted Banana trees would not last a week lying on the ground because of the bacteria and fungi. The recent times have brought this foul smell to the nearby neighborhood. Purok-7 was getting used to the heavier air, and dust had infested it… infested also with the dead bodies of dogs and cats, innards of fish and chickens, and disemboweled rats. The Purok has inquired about this, but to no avail. The problem was not even that much of an issue. People have learned that the development was necessary. Jobs created by it have enabled the boys, the fathers, and the breadwinners to provide. The women and even the uncles have been praising the youth for finding a job. Notwithstanding the upper middle income class, especially those who had children who made a fortune from this development as civil engineers, geodetic engineers, architects, brokers, and even investors.Few could fathom the impact of this large-scale environmental devastation, not when you are benefiting, not when you're nearby, and not when you haven't seen it.The animals would have something to say. There is a ranch on the other side where cows roam the little grasslands left, contained within the borders of its proprietor’s land. Every morning, they trod in file to breathe the morning dew and eat the shoots of the protruding grasses. Never was grass so rare as time like this—for the ranch had scheduled their daily tour in the grasses only at that particular time of the day, and they would be fed entirely with bought grasses and feeds for better nutrition. The uniform mooing of the cows sounded like a trumpet of an impending disaster. So ominous that when it stopped, it would be the sultriest time of the day, and the massive machinery, with unoiled bolts and joints, cranked in cacophony. These massive machines have deafened the normal sense of hearing of the nearby neighborhood. Operations would start at 7 AM then it would end at 10 PM as workers would do their best to increase their salary. But the cacophony of sound was relentless, even the worst possible extreme for the tired people who would have wanted a more silent feeling. It could not be stopped, but the adjustments have been made by those who have been in the area for decades. It seemed like it was the start of domination, and a few upper middle class, teamed by a number of working class, would not stand with an aristocrat: in this situation, the owner of the development.Butuan City, the capital of Agusan del Norte, has an altitude below sea level. In the hottest part of the dry season, the temperature, in Celsius, can go up to 40 degrees, notwithstanding the real feel, which can go higher. The cacophony of sound coming from the massive machinery was already enough of a source of discomfort pollution, plus the growing heat, the neighborhood has almost doubled their electric and water bills to supplement their comfort.  Bathing, air-conditioning, refrigerating, and the sorts just to lessen the extreme heat were made, but the wiser individuals knew that these were all but futile....Today is a day in July. The development continues, and there is nothing that can stop it. It will be among the real estate in the suburbs of the city by 2028, and there is even a rumor that a condominium, with 50 storeys, will be built there. The birds still tweet, with their feathers glistened by the stifling sun, making the leaves of the sole jackfruit tree in our backyard their haven because they are still figuring out the remaining better places on the horizon.