“The land in question is not desirable farmland, which is apparent from the farmers being willing to sell it,” the lawyer continued.  “It is classified as Class 5 agricultural land, which means there is no loss to the region of prime farmland.”  There were mutters from the crowd around Katherine, and someone shouted “It’s excellent for beef cattle and goats!”  Katherine wondered whether this was a joke.
     “Now I’d like to turn the floor over to Mr. Rick Burman, who is a property owner of some of the land in question, and who can report on the findings of a commisioned survey regarding the need for this development.”  The lawyer sat down, and Rick stood in front of the microphone.  Katherine noticed him smooth his hair back, a gesture of his whenever he was nervous.
     “Mr. Mayor, Councillors, The Highlands have commissioned a survey of the leading real estate professionals in the region, about their perception of the need for this housing development, and we have found that there is great demand for residential areas away from urban centres.  Increasing numbers of people wish to escape the pressures of city life and live in harmony with nature.  The Highlands offers that opportunity.  The air is pure, the land and water is clean and uncontaminated, there is an abundance of wildlife.  I know this, because I have lived in the area for seven years, and have walked almost every inch of the land to be developed.  It is highly desirable real estate and will give people the  chance at country living they need and have a right to.”
     Some of the people on Katherine’s side chortled loudly, but Katherine stared with her mouth open.  The nerve of him to act as if he was sharing the countryside for humane reasons.  She dug in her purse for a scrap of paper and began writing things down.
     “Our report contains the results of the survey and all the numbers and statistics,” he concluded.  “And yes, we’ll provide copies for anyone interested.”  The buzz rose again around Katherine.
     “Thank you, Mr. Burman,” said the mayor.  “Now I wish to remind everyone that this is an information gathering meeting only, and that Council is not prepared to decide on the application at this time.  We will be taking submissions from all interested parties and considering our decision after careful reflection.  Now, do the proponents have anything else they wish to submit?”
     “Not at this time,” said the lawyer Mr. James.
     “Are there any questions or concerns about this proposal?” asked the mayor.  There was a shout and cries from all around Katherine and a sea of hands was raised in the air.  Katherine added hers.  The mayor banged his gavel.  “And how many of you wish to speak to this issue?”
     There were whispers all around of “Keep your hands up.  You won’t have to speak, but we need the numbers.”  Only a few hands were lowered.  Katherine kept hers raised.
     “I see.  Well, we cannot accommodate all of you this evening, as we have other items on the agenda, but I’m willing to give you equal time as the proponents had, which I take to be – how long did they take?”  He conferred with the woman sitting near him.  “About 15 minutes.  So we’ll hear from some of you, but I warn you, that if you are merely repeating what has already been said, I will ask you to sit down.  And although the secretary will take minutes, I strongly urge you to submit written remarks if you want the Council to reflect on your concerns.  We will accept submissions from both parties for the next month.  Now we’ll hear from the first speaker at the microphone on this side.” 
     The man with the big nose and long hair stepped forward.  Clara whispered to Katherine, “Line up behind him if you want to speak.”  The man began speaking.  “Mr. Mayor, I want to request an environmental survey into the ramifications of the proposed development, as well as a detailed hydrogeological survey into the quality and quantity of the well water in the area should such a development go forward.”  There were murmurs of support as Katherine found herself moving to the microphone, her heart pounding.  She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, and her mouth felt dry, but she had to make the effort.
     “Any discussion of a 250-residence development is premature without tests like these being done,” the man said.  “And then we need time to review and verify the findings of these tests, so I would advise Council not to make a hasty decision.”
     “Have you conducted these tests?” the Mayor asked Mr. James.
     “We are prepared to do so once we have conditional acceptance of the proposal,” he said smoothly.
     The big-nosed man bent down to the mike.  “We wish to review the results of these tests before conditional acceptance is given.”
     Katherine was impressed at the knowledge of the ugly young man.  He seemed to be playing the game according to the rules.   She wondered whether she shouldn’t sit down and save embarrassing herself.
     “We have noted your concerns,” the Mayor told the man.
     Next was a short woman with a cane, who had to tilt her head up to the microphone.  “I’m here to preserve the farmland.  I object to reclassifying agricultural land to anything else because we have a real scarcity of farmland.  And it’s growing scarcer every day.  That bit about Class 5 farmland?”  She began waving her cane.  “I don’t agree with it!  That’s good farmland, well maybe not for ploughed crops, but for beef cattle, it’s just fine.  And somebody mentioned goats.  That’s also true.  And llamas.  I’ve got sheep myself, and they do all right.  Maybe the farmers out there just need to diversify, and try other types of farming.  So I really want to see Council vote against this proposal, and keep the farmland that we’ve got.  Thank you.”  And she turned and limped back to her seat.
     The microphone loomed in front of Katherine.  She heard her heart thumping in her ears.  She didn’t want to address the gathering.  She wanted to be home in her kitchen, or on her couch, reading a book, Noodle beside her.  With that thought she grew calm, and expertly adjusted the mike to suit her.
     “Mr. Mayor, Councillors, I’m here to ask you to save my home,” she began simply.  “I am one of the landowners who was approached by the proponents to sell my land, and I refused.  My 10 acres of farmland sit in the middle of the proposed development.  And I wish Council to note that notwithstanding the Class 5 classification, a neighbouring farmer rents my land to grow crops and obviously makes enough of a return to make a profit on top of the rent I get for it.  So I don’t know what Class 5 means, but that’s obviously profitable farmland.”  Now that she was talking, she felt remarkably relaxed.  “And I wish to clarify Council about the proponents’ motives for this development.  It’s got nothing to do with providing wholesome country living for stressed-out urbanites.”  She looked over at Rick’s group.  “It’s about profit, pure and simple.  It’s financial speculation, at the cost of farmland and a whole way of life for the people who chose to move to the true countryside, not some suburban fantasy of country living.  As for the wildlife, there won’t be any once their natural habitat has been destroyed by houses and infrastructure and arterial roads.”  She hoped Rick was impressed by her use of his terminology.  “Mr. Mayor, Councillors, I submit that despite this process of hearings, this isn’t true democracy, but the worst of capitalism, when a small group of investors can go in where they’re not wanted and ruin the surroundings for the majority of the rest of the people.  Like everyone else who lives in the area, I chose to move there to be in the country.  If I’d wanted a suburban lifestyle, I would have moved to a subdivision.  So I ask you again, on behalf of the majority of voting citizens in the area, to please save our homes.”  As she turned away from the mike, the supporting applause from her group was cut short by the Mayor’s gavel.
     “Thank you.  That’s all the time we have for comments this evening.  I would ask anyone else who has concerns to submit them to Council in writing.  Now we will proceed to the next item on the agenda.”
     The chamber almost emptied out as both camps streamed into the hall.  “Well done,” said Clara.  “Do you want to join us in the donut shop?”
     “Sure,” said Katherine, seeing Rick approach.  “I’ll catch up.”
     “Hello, Katherine,” he said.  She noticed that her nickname had disappeared.  “I see you’ve made a final decision on where you stand.  I was really sorry to hear you speak inside there.  But it’s not too late to change your mind, you know.  About everything.”
     “Unfortunately, Rick, I think it is.  I was sorry to hear you speak, as well.  Because I have made my decision.  I’m going to fight you.  I hope you lose.  I think what you’re doing is wrong.  But if you change your mind, let me know, won’t you?  Maybe we can still get together then.”  She started moving toward the parking lot.
      Rick smiled regretfully.  “Don’t hold your breath.”
     “I won’t,” she called back.  “What we have is called irreconcilable differences.  But you probably know all about that, don’t you, being divorced?”

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