I am away from my blog for three weeks as I take an online course from Boston College on The spirituality of aging. It is highly interactive through challenging and engaging written answers and responses. It is rather like very focused blogging with equally polite participants.
See you all again, perhaps with a bit more knowledge about aging(beyond personal experience!)

I first encountered poetry in public on the New York subway. Along side of the usual signs for bail bondsmen and pain relief, I spotted a poem. I was pleasantly surprised and have continued to appreciate other times that localities place poetry in public spaces such as our local park.

But why is it there and what do the people who place it hope to have happen? I found a good explanation from the local town’s poet laureate Andrea Barton(at least fourteen Connecticut towns have one.)In her view, poetry can be used to build bridges among individuals from all walks of life. “I want to pull the community together using poetry,” Andrea says. “I see the world through poetry, and think it’s exciting to help others do that too.”

Her quote encouraged me after I had spent many years in a college classroom exploring poems with young people. Too often the love they had for rhythm and rhyme as children had been extinguished by high school. Here they seemed to learn that poetry had a “secret meaning” known only to the teacher. I had to do much “unteaching” to allow them to connect in their own ways to each writing, abandoning ones that didn’t ring true, treasuring those that did.

I often echo Marianne Moore when I encounter many contemporary poems “when they become so derivative as to become unintelligible, the same thing may be said for all of us—that we do not admire what we cannot understand.” But much poetry makes perfect sense to many people, putting thoughts and insights into words that provide connection and comfort. That poetry, placed in view of ordinary people, can enrich lives.

The park banner has just an excerpt of the poem. Here I am sharing the full text. In my next post I will explore the project in full.

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What It Looks Like To Us and the Words We Use
BY ADA LIMÓN
All these great barns out here in the outskirts,
black creosote boards knee-deep in the bluegrass.
They look so beautifully abandoned, even in use.
You say they look like arks after the sea’s
dried up, I say they look like pirate ships,
and I think of that walk in the valley where
J said, You don’t believe in God? And I said,
No. I believe in this connection we all have
to nature, to each other, to the universe.
And she said, Yeah, God. And how we stood there,
low beasts among the white oaks, Spanish moss,
and spider webs, obsidian shards stuck in our pockets,
woodpecker flurry, and I refused to call it so.
So instead, we looked up at the unruly sky,
its clouds in simple animal shapes we could name
though we knew they were really just clouds.
disorderly, and marvelous, and ours.

The above photo shows only a small part of the playground designed for older kids. I had difficulty getting a picture with no children in it(to preserve their privacy.) This large area, across the sidewalk from the toddler playscape, attracts a constant flow of children, mostly from ages 3 to around 12. The structure pictured above is a combined rope and bar set up for climbing. The area also includes a large multilevel platform, slides, climbing bars, and swings. Since adults are mostly uninvolved as the kids play, benches around the perimeter allow them to sit and watch.

A few weeks ago I learned from a sports physician that for many children organized sports are their only physical activity. As a result many children lack an overall healthy physical development that can come from free play. Growing up in the 1950’s when unstructured play was normal, I had never considered how we ended up with flexibility and strength that a sport focused on a particular set of skills might not have provided.

After talking with him I gained new appreciation for the local park’s “big kid” play area. I watch children invent challenges and games since the structures invite but don’t dictate their use. No wonder that so many over programmed kids run free of uniforms and rules into the place. Their squeals and laughter accompany them each time I walk by revealing that they don’t have be taught how to play.

The park cleverly has two separate play areas, across a sidewalk from each other, with each visible from either one. (My photos are necessarily incomplete since I respect kids’ privacy.) This picture shows one end of the playground specifically for the newly walking and toddling children. The area also includes a play house and a large sand pit. The designers thoughtfully placed a picnic table under a sheltering roof so parents(and many grandparents) could rest and watch the kids at play.

This was the first time I had seen two separate play sections in a park, and I love watching how parents and kids maneuver the choice. The fencing has an automatically closing gate, too complicated for the very small, so they are content to play here. As they get a little older and bolder they begin to ask for the area in the next post. This means that the littlest kids are not constantly being knocked over by the bigger ones, nor are they hurried as they very very tentatively walk up the ramp to the little slide.

I love watching the interactions between these littlest children and their carers. Most actually pay attention instead of sticking to their phones. I hear encouragement and consolation as the children explore and fall. Unlike the paved surface of my childhood, the wood shavings here provide a gentle landing. A good time for one and all(including those walking by.)

We first started using this large park in the neighboring town after I took a bad fall on a local sidewalk. I tripped over a spot where two sections met with one half an inch higher than the other. I went down so suddenly and so completely that I barely knew what had happened. Fortunately I had my hands in my pockets, so I didn’t throw out my arms and break my wrists, the most common injuries with such a tumble. Nothing broke though I had extensive bruising on my knee elbow and thigh. The outside of my head was unscathed, but inside of my head my confidence was shaken.

Nothing is less relaxing than walking on a sidewalk fearing another fall. After giving up walks for a while as my body healed, I wondered where else we could go. That led us to this park and its paths and walkways. The photo above shows one of the typical paved paths around the park. Unlike some sidewalks, this one is wide enough to allow two people to pass two people going the opposite direction. The paved surface is well maintained, plowed during the winter, and swept clean during the rest of the year.

Paved walks are perfect for walking but also for baby strollers and any mobility devices. Small children also try out their first biking skills on them. It is possible to do circuits just on paved walkways without looking out for cars. They allow an opportunity to be outside, near the river, walking without worry. They provided me my first optimism about walking outdoors again.

(The hanging banner features a poem, part of a poetry in public spaces project. That will show up in a later post.)

I was intrigued by the sign by the land transformed from an oil storage depot to a town park. What exactly did they mean that the place was “age friendly,” an ambitious goal for a recreational site? How might one park serve everyone from baby to elder and those with mobility challenges? And were they able to demonstrate rather than just tout the designation? To my deep delight they truly delivered on this public space by the river.

Years ago I spent time on Portland, Oregon’ Planning Commission and as its member on the city Design Commission. While neither a professional planner nor an architect, I learned much about what goes into designing a project. When I began to reflect on this new park in Connecticut, it was through the experience of that learning base.

The reclaimed land was basically an enormous clean slate and I imagine a welcome challenge to its architects. The team wisely assessed all the needs of many different citizens and ended up creating a series of “rooms’ within the expanse. And as new demands arose, the park has been modified.

In following posts I will lay out the clever way they truly met the claim to be “age friendly” as well as boat, dog, soccer, lacrosse, baseball, volleyball, kite flying, ice skating and lately pickleball accommodating. To say nothing of creating a lovely backdrop for weddings.

The town had a vision as depicted in the schematic above, but there was a major problem. To quote the federal Environmental Protection Agency in their discussion of the area:

This brownfield site borders the scenic Connecticut River, making it a potentially valuable public asset if it could be remediated to stringent state standards. However, changing public perception was key. To be accepted as the location of a proposed Community Center and Riverfront Park site, the public had to change its opinion of the site from a contaminated liability, to a location safe for recreational activities.

I am distressed to read that the main objective seemed to be “changing public perception.” I find the government phrasing a little manipulative to say the least. I would have much preferred the straightforward statement that “we will make this area safe for recreation.” Nonetheless, money was provided by the federal government to clean up the site.

Much contaminated soil was buried, much was removed, and protections were put in place to prevent “seepage” into the Connecticut River. The remediation process took four years, but construction of the park and community center on it could now take place.

We walk most days in a large riverfront park along the Connecticut River. In the next few days I will write about the wonderful community asset now there. But first I wanted to share three photos of the site before it was transformed.

As with many river locations, the original use was industrial. In the neighborhood in Portland, Oregon where I lived, for instance, furniture factories were replaced by a park after furniture manufacturing left. In Glastonbury, Connecticut, the river provided a way to supply huge oil tanks. When we moved here the tanks were long longer in use, but the empty ones remained as the first photo shows.

The wooden structures in the center photo used to run the hoses to the tanks were falling apart but were still a hazard since they seemed to beg to be climbed on. The third photo shows the town’s effort to keep people from exploring the ruins. Of course as with any “attractive nuisance,” they failed.

Needless to say the entire site was contaminated, labeled a “brownfield” and would need significant remediation before it could be used as a park.

I was exercising yesterday morning listening to Bob Dylan(remembering my college fitness level) when I heard a song from his Blonde on Blonde album. My vinyl copy of the set has “Tepperman” written on it. Since I know no one named Tepperman I assume I borrowed it from someone who had borrowed it. At any rate if you happen to read my blog, I have your album.

As Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again played I remembered that the lyrics always made me think of me caught inside one of Alexander Calder’s giant mobiles. It seemed an apt description of some states of mind and I never questioned the image.

Years later Charlie and I were at a Bob Dylan concert when he whispered to me “This is the only song about Mobile, Alabama.” Since Charlie is from Mobile I realized, much to my chagrin, that I had misheard the lyrics for years. The singer, stuck in Alabama, would have much preferred to be in Memphis, Tennessee.

I began to think of other words I have misheard. As a child I thought that the Pledge of Allegiance referred to “one country invisible” instead of “one country indivisible.” With the present state of things I may have been on to something. At Christmas I sang happily of the “round young virgin”(’round yon virgin) in the carol. Made sense to me.

I hope you will add some of your own misheard lyrics.