Parks, Playgrounds, and Partly Cloudy Skies

A seven year-old recreational park of plastic, steel, and
concrete sits nestled within the confines of a crowded yet cozy neighborhood in
the rural town of Petaluma. Despite the many playing sections-- climbing structures and swing sets, tennis courts and bocci ball courts, baseball fields and basketball courts-- the area is kept well maintained and remains in a state of near constant use by its surrounding inhabitants. Throughout the day, the concrete paths winding through the park guide families, couples, and students to their destination, be it the grocery store, the coffee shop, the beauty salon, the hair salon, the junior college, a restaurant or one of the houses across or next to it. In late winter the deciduous trees dotting the park are bare and skinny, with only the few evergreens and the miniature hills of emerald grass bringing life, besides the people, to the area. The sun begins to set at around five-thirty in the afternoon at this time of year, and even as the air starts to chill and the street lights flicker to brightness, there are small children playing in the bark and basketball teams gathering on the courts as I sit on a bench to watch the Earth turn away from its star.

The three play structures at the center of the park, each colored with solid green, red, yellow and black, are sized in accordance to the three main stages of childhood: baby, toddler, and child. Miscellaneous wooden benches are stationed around the area, with the longest and most comfortable of them placed around the baby structure. It is the smallest structure, low to the ground with a few smooth steps and multiple yellow slides flowing from its sides, making it look as though it is supported by nothing but the bright, slick appendages. The noise from the basketball game in session casts through the darkening park and rings out unobstructed across the small grassy hills beside me, only the chaotic bouncing of the ball being echoed back by the walls of the small lavatory station next to the toddler area. This area has a much taller slide and a box-shaped climbing structure surrounded by low concrete walls and populated by rocking animals, a red twirling cup, a large spring-loaded teeter-totter, with an alligator sand-box in the corner. Beyond the concrete wall lay yet another structure; this one is made with plastic, steel and rope. It had a rough black climbing rope, a set of blue and yellow sliding monkey-bars, and a pair of seats that twisted upwards to the bar that seemed to be holding it all up. Next to this is a rotating circle and two twisting seats that many children begged to be spun upon by their weary but compliant parents. The rest of the child sized play structure lay across a concrete path and next to the biggest of three swing sets. The largest structure, which is a thick tower of spiraling red metal beams covered by a blue cone roof topped with a small flag. Three thick slides-- one red, one green and one bright blue-- twist downward from the top of the structure, acting as tubes of transport for the screaming and giggling youth who race down their smooth centers.

Honking, flapping, flying-- A flock of wild geese call loudly overhead and cast fleeting shadows upon the blue metal roof of a solitary picnic enclosure, housing four picnic tables. A blue rusted weather vane sits upon the top of the roof, reflecting the last of the dying sunlight as the sky erupts in a burst of burning hues. The partly cloudy skies soak up the color and the clouds turn a bruised purple and hot pink when the horizon is set aflame with soft yellows and coppery reds. The smell of hot grease and warm tortillas drifts through the still and nippy air, originating from the taqueria across the street, and the dimmed bulbs of the park lights are just beginning to flicker to life. The freshly painted and newly resurfaced courts act as a safe haven for the families of players that flock there, and night-play is encouraged by the installation of night-lights, not unlike those at the basketball courts, with black netting blocking the view of the courts from the park. A pair of bocci ball isles are erected before the wrapped tennis gates and next to the restroom, filled with rocky sand and the occasional dead weed. A small group of teenagers walk past it, balancing on its short wooden walls before scuffling the dirt and heading the direction of the taqueria, though not before throwing a few wrappers into one of the many trash receptacles, both portable and permanent, that populated the edges of the sidewalk.

A young man with a backpack quickly shuffles by, taking short and rapid strides toward the Junior College across from the park, walking over the connecting bridge and disappearing from sight. The sun sinks lower in the sky as the clock signals five-fifty, and the colors of the dying day bleed gray with each passing moment. A family that had been playing catch on the baseball field walks slowly down the concrete path and out of the park, though not before the youngest boy ran up and curiously kicked at the empty notice board until his mother came back and led him off. The remaining families continue to play as the evening begins to set in, and a mother consults a worn bus schedule before leaning back with a tired but contented sigh and watching her children play from a spot on a nearby bench. The basketball game still rages and the friendly shouts of encouragement and competition grow louder as the natural lighting in the sky dies out and the artificial light is all to see by. Soon the sky has become a smudged gray and smooth purple as the remaining vestiges of sunlight drain from view, and only a lightened horizon of blue remains. The light dies. The sun disappears. The night takes over.

As I dust off my pants and rise to stand, I take one last look around and observe all that I can see around me, thinking back upon what I had seen before now. Just minutes ago the sky had been streaming with color and the grass had been a rich emerald, but now there was only white and yellow automated lighting the grass looked a gaudy green. Only half an hour ago there had been groups of families playing together out in the fields and children running loose through the playground, but there was only a single family left and only the basketball game in the harsh white lighting gave any other signs of life. Just a scant thirty minutes ago there had been a warm and comfortable atmosphere flowing gently through the park, but here in the dark there was only a cold and lonely dullness existing outside of the haunting rings of fake lighting along the barren concrete paths.