I was down at the park the other day, the one by the creek. East Gallatin Rec Area, they call it now, though most of us just say “the duck pond.” Used to be a quiet place, good for a walk, maybe skipping a rock or two. Now, well, it’s something else entirely.

There are signs up everywhere. “No picnicking on the grass here.” “Dogs must be on a six-foot leash.” “Do not approach the waterfowl.” And my favorite, “Please respect the natural habitat.” It makes you wonder who it’s for, respectfully.

I saw a young woman with a yoga mat, doing poses right by the water. She had expensive-looking leggings. Not a duck in sight, of course, they’ve all wised up and moved further downstream. Then a fellow came by with a drone. He was flying it over the trees, buzzing like a giant mosquito. All for a TikTok video, I heard him tell his friend.

My neighbor, Dale, he’s lived here since before they paved Main Street, he says he doesn’t bother with the parks much anymore. “Too many rules, not enough common sense,” he told me while he was bringing in his mail. He used to take his grandkids to the duck pond to feed the ducks, back when you could do such a thing.

I understand that things change. The valley is growing, and with more people, sometimes you need more guidance. But a park, in its essence, should be pretty simple. A place for folks to breathe deeply and maybe just be.

The new bridge they built last year, it looks nice. It’s got those fancy lights that change color. But it also has a little plaque explaining what kind of exotic hardwood was used and how it’s “sustainably sourced from the Amazon.” It’s a bridge. It gets you from one side of the creek to the other.

Sometimes I think we’re so busy admiring the new additions, we forget what was already good about the place. A simple patch of grass, a few old trees, some ducks. That’s all it ever really needed to be. A place where you could sit on a bench and just watch the clouds drift by without feeling like you’re violating a carefully crafted park management plan.

Maybe all these rules and fancy improvements are supposed to make it better. Safer, perhaps, or more attractive in a brochure. But for some of us, it just makes the park feel a little less like a park, and a bit more like an exhibit.

Phyllis Grainbelt has lived in the Gallatin Valley her entire life and remembers when the Co-op was just a co-op. She does not elaborate on what this means.