As a local travel infusion nurse in Sussex County, Delaware, I spend my days driving from patient to patient – crossing backroads, highways and neighborhoods that seem to expand overnight. My work is rooted in healing. I enter people’s homes during vulnerable moments, providing care, stability and support.
But what I witness between those visits tells another story – one of loss.
There was a time when these drives were lined with trees – quiet, steady and grounding. Now, mile after mile, I see clear-cut land. Forests replaced by housing developments. Farmland carved into subdivisions. According to reporting from WHYY, Sussex County has lost an estimated 43,000 acres of forest since the late 1990s, much of it cleared for development.
Productive farmland is disappearing as well – land that once sustained local communities now converted into dense housing and commercial buildouts. The pace feels unbalanced and ever more irreversible.
Inside my patients’ homes, I focus on healing. Outside, the environment feels increasingly strained.
My patients notice it too. From one home to the next, I hear the same concerns: The traffic is terrible. The roads are congested. The quiet is gone. But what stays with me most are their words, spoken not with anger, but with a kind of quiet grief:
“The deer have nothing to eat anymore.”
“They have no peace.”
“Where will they go?”
They’ve watched the trees disappear. They’ve seen habitats erased. Many of them have lived here for decades and remember when Sussex County felt open, natural and calm. And then there is another sentiment I hear again and again: “All they care about is money.”
These are not policymakers or environmental advocates. These are everyday people – many older, many homebound – who are witnessing change in real time and feeling its impact deeply. As a nurse, I feel it too.
What used to be manageable drives between patients are now unpredictable, delayed by traffic and construction. In healthcare, delays matter. They affect care, timing and outcomes. The growing congestion is not just an inconvenience; it reflects a system under strain.
More importantly, this is a public health issue. Forests regulate temperature, improve air quality, absorb stormwater and provide habitat for wildlife. When they disappear, the effects ripple outward, impacting both environmental and human health.
Growth is not inherently wrong. But unchecked growth – development that prioritizes speed over sustainability – comes at a cost.
Sussex County is losing more than land. It is losing the very charm that once defined it. The quiet roads. The tree-lined landscapes. The balance between people and nature.
Driving from patient to patient, I carry both care and concern. I care for individuals inside their homes while watching the environment outside change in ways that feel increasingly unsustainable.
And I find myself asking the same question my patients ask: Why can’t we stop this? Because once forests are gone, they are not easily replaced. And once the character of a place is lost, it is even harder to reclaim.
Christine Villabona-Kuntz, RN
Dover























































