Because so much of York Region is protected by the Oak Ridges Moraine and the greenbelt, there is a very limited amount of strategically located land.

Old noted oak! I saw thee in a mood Of vague indifference; and yet with me Thy memory, like thy fate, hath lingering stood For years, thou hermit, in the lonely sea Of grass that waves around thee!

Those green-robed senators of mighty woods, Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars, Dream, and so dream all night without a stir.

The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees, Shoots rising up, and spreads by slow degrees. Three centuries he grows, and three he stays Supreme in state; and in three more decays.

Deep ridges crossed his forehead like terraces in a Thai hillside, tucks in a leather cushion, troughs across a bloodhound’s jowls.

If I could stand up there with my whole side protected, ... why would I give up anything?