Groves of Academe

The last part of my trek is more than worth its weight in shoe leather. I have the god fortune to walk in the quiet grounds of the Veterans Administration Medical Center. The broad straight cement walkway runs along a row of stately old magnolia trees on a lawn about fifteen feet wide, separating the vast and jam-packed hospital employee parking lot from the vast and congested Seventh Street. Through some quirk of landscape design, this mini-park is elevated about six or seven feet above the traffic. With my head not nearly in the clouds but my feet not exactly on the ground, I savor a few minutes of serenity before I punch the clock for work.

Cars to the left and buses to the right, but this swath of green seems like a walk in the country. The only people who use it are students and staff walking to the campus of California State Long Beach, which is to say next to nobody. Okay, there are a few miscreant bicyclists and skateboarders whizzing by in spite of several government issue warning signs and a vigilant security guard who enjoys nothing better than giving students a hard time.

Walking just above the roofs of the cars, especially if they’re jammed up at a red light and I’m passing them, creates an oddly euphoric sensation. Seriously, I think they should think about designing bi-level pedestrian walkways. The bikes can use the lower level and pedestrians above. It won’t eliminate the noise and fumes, but it would definitely discourage jaywalking. LOL

After two blocks of serenity, I squeeze through a perilously narrow opening n the cinderblock barrier between the hospital grounds and the university campus. The sidewalk takes a sharp turn and wobbles above the level of the street, contorted by several old eucalyptus trees that have forced the slabs of concrete out of alignment. A rusty guard rail seems as forgotten as the sidewalk, and the lantana shrubs growing on the steep bank leading down to the street are choked with weeds. I have a secret fondness for this homely little corner of the campus that the landscapers forgot. There’s a gaping hole in the cinderblock wall that’s been crudely barricaded on the hospital side. I like to think some frenzied student came barreling through there trying to get to class on time.

For the last block or so I surrounded by the honest, angular red brick buildings of the university. There aren’t any ivy-covered walls, but there’s plenty of ivy-covered ground as well as colorful flower beds. Students pass me by like I’m not there, caught up in conversations on their cell phones or their friends or just walking alone wrapped up in their studies. I feel so luck to be a part of this place, at least for a couple of months.