Yesterday after work, to the general dismay of my co-workers, I walked home.  I work in a shop near the location of the former Devonshire Racetrack, and walking home means trekking many blocks north towards Howard and Shepherd Avenue.

I was transferred a few months ago.  I used to work a stone’s throw away from the Hiram Walker plant on Wyandotte, and I would walk to work every day, rain or shine.  For a half an hour a day, both ways, I walked through blinding snowstorms, torrential rain, blistering heat, and soul-sucking humidity.

The best part of my walk was when I would amble down Niagara Street going through Walkerville.  I use the word “amble” due to the fact that I would inevitably slow down as I passed into Old Walkerville; the streets I used to play in as a kid looked exactly the same as they did then.  I’m sure they looked the same as they did in 1926.  They few people awake at that time would be out jogging or walking their dogs, and I would always get a smile and a “good morning” as we passed by each other.  It is a place where time and memory have no separation.

Spaces are defined by visual landmarks, and the feelings that they give you.  On my right I would see the old grey pillars and the wrought iron fence of Willistead and I knew where I was.  The trees stretching over the street, looking down on me, gave me a feeling of calm, and I would breathe the wet morning air.  Sometimes the air would be permeated by the scent of hops or yeast from the distillery, but that was just another sensory landmark.  Good places trigger all of your senses.

The quietness and the birdsong filled my ears.  I would rarely listen to my mp3 player in the morning.  The quiet walk lulled me into a tranquil state before the frenetic noise and chaos of my workplace.  I go past St Mary’s Anglican Church.  It looks as if someone kidnapped an abbey from Somerset and threw it into the back of a van and plunked it down 30 feet away from me.  This is the type of place that brings out the poet in me.

Past the palatial old homes of long forgotten executives and aldermen, and past the row houses of Monmouth, Walker Road comes up at you like a noisy argument.  The sound of tires and pavement replaces the leaves and birds.  It’s as if reality would rush back to me and here I was, in the first part of the 21st century again.

Now with this transfer, I haven’t been able to enjoy the morning walks through the past.  I miss the old houses, the old church and the wrought iron fences.  Above all I miss the trees the most.  Walking down Howard there is no break from the incessant drone of vehicles, and the smell of exhaust.  At one point, a garbage truck idles next to me and my nostrils are invaded by an olfactory nightmare.  The lack of grass is also shocking.  Howard Avenue does not let grass encroach upon its surly borders. 

I was then struck by an idea.  It’s a small improvement, but I believe it is a novel one.  Any space that is available on Howard for planting a tree, we should utilize it.  I realise that the sidewalk is pock marked with driveways, but there are spaces between the buildings and in front of businesses that are totally unused.  They are either grass, or just unused concrete.  There are a hardy few trees along Howard, most notably a line of trees coming up to the intersection at Edinborough. 

My point to this is we need more places like this, more lines of trees, more green space.  Life isn’t all concrete and gasoline.  Seeing miles of pavement may be beautiful to a civil engineer, but to me and to most people, we love natural beauty, even if it is in small pockets integrated into our urban expanses. 

It’s a simple idea, and it has been suggested before, but the more we line our streets with trees, the nicer our city looks, and it gives us character and beauty.  Chicago and its Mayor, Richard Daley, have been very successful in these types of endeavours making the once bleak Chicago a beautiful place to live and work.
Even if we use planters, like we have downtown, we can beautify parts of our city for the forgotten pedestrian and the overlooked cyclist. 

We just have to keep walking, one street at a time.              

Tags: environment, Green Building, health, pedestrian, Urban Design, walkable