I grew up in Stockton. And for all my life, except a few years spent in Los Angeles, San Joaquin County’s been home.

I’ve long thought one of the most underappreciated beauties of living where we do is how close we are to agriculture. When I first got my driver’s license, I marveled that, starting from the center of Stockton, I could drive 15 minutes in any direction and suddenly be rumbling through the country — lost in Delta waterways, cornrows, vineyards and orchards.

It’s part of our area’s inborn character — a birthright for those on the edge of the Delta in the heart of the Central Valley.

That, however, has been changing. In many places, rows of houses line roads once flanked by working fields. Farmers and ranchers, deciding to cash in on soaring real-estate prices, sold land to developers who had a different idea about the county’s “character.” Subdivisions became a new cash crop.

That growth — often without a grand scheme and limited to which parcels of land were sold and which were not — is on the verge of defining the valley as open land once did.

It’s an even more realistic possibility now that one of the state’s biggest weapons in the fight to preserve ag land and limit urban sprawl has had its funding plug pulled.

The Williamson Act was created in 1965, designed to make it more profitable for those working the land to, well, work it. Those who agreed to preserve their land for agricultural purposes for no less than 10 years — or 20 years under a “new” decade-old provision — received a hefty tax break, making it a more palatable financial decision to produce food rather than grow the next McMansionville.

But faced with a monumental budget crisis, the state is backing out of the preservation game to the tune of $28 million annually. That means counties — the ones who make the actual contracts with landholders — are faced with a tough decision. Continue the contracts without state reimbursement, or end the contracts and hope precious open land remains open.

For our county, it’s a serious decision. Agriculture is still No. 1 in San Joaquin — in 2007, it accounted for a more than $2 billion chunk of the local economy. And almost 550,000 of the county’s 913,000 acres are under Williamson Act protection.

The county budget for 2009-10 also predicts a $32.5 million decline in revenue from the year before. But squeezing enough savings to continue local Williamson contracts could be crucial to preserving the place we call home.

Agricultural commissioners and farm bureau officials are on record saying that the program is “one of the most effective tools to preserve our ag lands we have,” and that cutting its funding is a “recipe for urban sprawl.”

If there’s one thing we don’t need more of, it’s sprawl. I’ve been to SoCal’s Inland Empire, and it’s something we don’t need to emulate. Trust me.

But there’s more affecting the future of San Joaquin County’s land use than the state’s Williamson Act dodge. The county is in the midst of updating its general plan — its master document for growth — for the first time since 1992.

Among the goals of the revision are to: reflect the unique values, geographies and aspirations of San Joaquin County residents; ensure compliance with California planning law; respond to climate change; provide for sustainability; enhance the agricultural sector; diversify the economic base; protect the Delta; provide infrastructure for future growth; and protect and enhance scenic landscapes and routes.

It seems to go hand-in-hand with sustaining the Williamson Act and protecting the rural lands that give our region both beauty and economic brawn.

We’ll have to see if the county considers the price tag worth it.

I hope so. Continuing the tax break to farmers might seem an awful expense when budgets drip red ink. But surrendering our area’s character could prove an even pricier burden.

• Share your thoughts with associate editor and columnist Jon Mendelson at jmendelson@tracypress.com.