Hike 2A: Mid-Northeast, part II

Dear Diary,

The Seattle Department of Parks and Recreation home page at the very hour I started this page lead off with "Space Available in School Aged Childcare Program".  Clicking on that leads in turn to a page that says "Wedgwood School Aged Care 2020-2021" happens at "Ravenna-Eckstein Cmty Ctr".

So on Wednesday morning, without even stopping to buy groceries and draw water, north I went again to

Ravenna-Eckstein Community Center and Park

Another version of the postcard shot:

Notice the dark windows.  No, dear Diary, that isn't some weird photographic effect.  At 8:47 A.M. on a Wednesday, this ostensible child care site was a closed building.

I thought I should rule out the possibility that the kids were outside, so I went around back to the park.  Now, this was the day after I'd told you, dear Diary, in "What's in a Name?", that I ought to pay more attention to parks' sporting aspects.  So when I saw this:

well, I just had to tell you about it.  See, I don't know anything about dimensions, but I do know that that's a proper set of lines for a basketball court.

Anyway, weirdly, considering the hour, not only were there no child care classes at the playgrounds, there were no kids at all:

It turns out that one more click leads to the information that the Ravenna-Eckstein Community Center's child care is actually offered at "Wedgwood Elemenarty School".  So kids whose schools are closed due to COVID-19 are instead attending child care - at school?

I forgot to do the introduction thing in the previous page.  Although, according to my notes, I mentioned Ravenna-Eckstein Park in "Go North, Aging Man!" May 6, it wasn't until October 3, in "Water Fountains - An Interim Report", part II, that I said anything much.  The previous page and this still don't add up to what I think of as "doing justice" to this small but surprisingly complex space, and I'll have to think about that.

View Ridge Playfield

One reason I had to put these parks early in the hikes is that I'd already started with this one.  Late on New Year's Day my stomach got a bit queasy, no, not that, but suggesting I might not get much warning of Number Two, so I decided not to take chances, and to head for the 24 hour restroom.  To my great relief it came through:

As this story suggests, I've paid considerably more attention to View Ridge Playfield than to the other two parks these pages concern.  Still more so because these are the nearest park restrooms to the Seattle Public Library's Northeast branch, where I usually went for Wi-Fi - among other things, to write you, dear Diary - in the months I lacked University Wi-Fi.

So this is another park introduced May 6 in "Go North, Aging Man!" without photos, but already June 4 in "Home Dry Home" I included a landscape shot, and then June 12 "A Night View of View Ridge Playfield, and a Name".  After that, October 2 "A Thank You", October 3 "Water Fountains - An Interim Report", part II, and November 23 "Standing Room Only", part III.

But none of these really conveyed all that much about the place - the night view basically showed what I can also attest from later experience, that at night in that park one can't see much.  On Wednesday, fired up with my newfound zeal for parks' athletic sides, I vowed to Do Better.

But first things first:

All as expected.  That is the best side of this building, by the way, not because of anything visible now, but because of the chalk art the kids will put onto the pavement in front come summer.  Last summer I spent perhaps an hour total watching the slow decay of the beauty of one exceptional drawing.

Next I looked at my notes from "What's in a Name?"  Apparently View Ridge claims baseball, soccer and basketball.  Baseball:

This is pretty much the norm in the grass baseball fields:  sand infields, grass outfields, and way off at the opposite corner another diamond.  I don't remember whether we did these things that way in Milwaukee in the 1970s.  The infields have a degree of sameishness that strongly suggests common origins, possibly thanks to the local Little League.  Notice also, dear Diary, the partly sheltered benches in the dugouts.

As for soccer?  That usually means a pair of white, very sameish, ahem, movable goalposts:

But View Ridge is a little different here:

Basketball means a half court:

I was fortunate in the arrival, before I could take that shot, of the parks employee mentioned several times in "My Book of Hours".  He pointed out that thanks to the cancellation of team sports, the fields hadn't been re-seeded or groomed, and none of "the soccer things" were out.  He also said View Ridge's field was one of the best, because it had its original soil, not the sandy stuff Parks puts down elsewhere.  Finally, he told me View Ridge's restrooms had actually been 24 hours for years.

Anyway, as for non-athletic signs of uniqueness?  The view hill across the street isn't really part of the park.  I remembered liking the trees one sees from there, but not so much by day.  But that gave me a hint.  I don't know whether it's just familiarity at work, or something real, but I do like the arrangement of the trees in the southern, non-field, side of the park.

Well, I doubt that shot makes my point, dear Diary, but in any event such bucolic things must now pause, because the next three pages concern Magnuson Park.