It’s that time in Reading when they launch an aerial assault on the mosquito larvae—soon-to-be damn pupae.

Which inspires some itchy memories.

When I moved to Reading nearly 20 years ago, the town was dull but relatively green. I could ride my bike in any direction from home and, within a mile or so, be in green space, even if it were a dump or dilapidated farm. No longer.

The town fathers, who I always imagine smelling of farts and Lectric Shave, were elated when they passed off the cost of cleaning up the dump to a big-box store developer. As predicted, the big-box stores sapped the business from the modest old downtown.

Today, the only relatively green space in the area winds along utility rights of way where the need to keep natural gas pipeline, high-tension wires and railroad has precluded crappy overdevelopment.

Still, there’s no getting away from the SUVs and cellphone-distracted drivers that have taken over the roads during the same period.