Holladay Park

Shade.

Overhead is a lush green canopy.  The sun has strength to break through only in the large middle square, dominated by streams of clear water that rush upward like large drinking fountains.  You can walk through without getting splashed.

Overhead and below, the overwhelming color is green.

Green leaves.  Green grass.  When the grass is freshly cut, the sharp smell can overwhelm a lone visitor sitting on the stone ledge at the edge of the park.

It is what Portland should be.

Holladay Park.

At the south end of Holladay Park, the Tri-Met light rail Max system picks up passengers on the red, blue, and green lines.  It beeps and clacks and reminds you that the city is only one block away.  For the moment, though, the park is an escape.  And the Max can help aid escape.  It is on one edge of the “Free Rail Zone.”  Anywhere within its borders, whether you work within it or live within it, you can ride the Max anytime for free.

The Max even has a place to hang up a bike.

Mass transit like that?  It epitomizes Portland.

To the south, there is an area dominated by tall clean buildings and wide streets, representing “new” Portland.  On the north is Portland’s largest mall, the Lloyd Center.  To the east, there is a parking lot and a movie theater.

Inside the park?

Two sidewalks start in the corners and cross in the center, right through the middle of the fountain.  Those sidewalks also have a square laid over them for short-cuts.  It is a walk beneath the trees.

It is a place to slow down and relax, to walk, to let the benches invite you to sit on them.  “Please, please,” they seem to shout.  If you do, tension falls from your shoulders like hundreds of tiny angry spiders you weren’t even aware existed.  They land on the sidewalk and scurry away until those little monsters are choked to frustration and uselessness by thick green grass.

Peace.

Young lovers may distract you.

Once anyone visits the park in bloom, they cannot look at life the same way – at least not immediately.

I hope.