Walking in the Arboretum

I live essentially across the street from the Seattle Arboretum.  As shown in the map, the Arboretum is a long, skinny park, some 230 acres in size, and co-managed by the University of Washington and the City of Seattle.  It is squeezed between the Montlake neighborhood to the west, where I live, and the Broadmoor gated community and golf course to the east.

Within the park, close to the western border, flows Lake Washington Boulevard, a somewhat heavily trafficked arterial disguised as a scenic drive.  No part of the Arboretum is really out of earshot of Lake Washington Boulevard traffic, but the foliage is so dense and the paths so winding that, unless you're listening for it, you hear the traffic sounds simply as white noise, like a rushing stream or wind in the treetops.

Until this year, despite living next to the Arboretum, I rarely entered it.  Not because it wasn't beautiful, but because, except for an access road that ran next to the Broadmoor border, there was no simple way that I could run or walk while daydreaming within the park.  When I did venture in, I loved it.  The trails wound up and down hills, and were mazelike, totally disorienting.  A bit like a much larger version of the Rambles in New York's Central Park, without some of the sociological problems associated with that area.  You thought you were headed one direction, and ended up somewhere else entirely, which -- when in the right mood -- is a delightful way to discover a park, a city, or a country.

The Arboretum is both a laboratory and a park, and the functions don't always co-exist easily. It has only been within the last few years that the scientific aspects of the park have been emphasized.  Different areas of the park have been devoted exclusively to distinct ecological patterns or different species of plants, even at the expense of some beautiful old trees that were unfortunately removed.  Signage has been greatly improved, and the museum like quality of the park thus emphasized.

One change has been to construct a paved loop from one end of the park to the other, incorporating the old access road on the Broadmoor border for one side of the loop, and building a new pathway paralleling Lake Washington Boulevard for the other.  The loop is suitable for both bicycles and walkers.  I was appalled at this idea, because of my romantic attachment to the wilderness aspects of the park, the sense that large areas were discoverable only by exploration -- by trying out those winding paths and seeing where they led. 

But the loop works.  Its course is indicated by the faint white line that circles within the yellow portion of the map.  It makes an excellent walk, and has lured me into the park far more this year than ever before.  And most of the old network of winding paths still exists, still confuses wonderfully, and can be accessed from various points along the loop.

I was afraid that the Arboretum would be inundated by users, but so far that hasn't happened.  I just finished a walk at 7 p.m., and encountered only occasional walkers and bikers.

So, I remind myself once more: change isn't always bad.  Even if you could "stop progress," it might be a good idea to give progress a chance and see what happens.  Sometimes.  And certainly in the case of the Seattle Arboretum.