A Walk in the Park

 

Tell me, please: What is cheaper than drugs, better than aerobics, and closer than Hawaii? If your answer is Wal-Mart, I suggest your life is in serious trouble. Likewise, if you snorted something like: "Nothing is cheaper than drugs, better than pizza, and closer than Hawaii," I have a have four-letter word for you (and don't get your hopes up, I'm not going to swear).

The word is (drum roll, please) P-A-R-K.

Park, but not a verb, as in "park the car"; it's park, a noun, as in "a walk in the park." Park, as good green growth in the middle of a town or city park, such as Henderson Lake Park in Lethbridge, or a national park, as in the Waterton Lakes National Park. (No, Horace, I didn't make a spelling mistake - it is Lakes, not Lake.)

About thirty-seven columns ago I suggested four or five features that should be found in every small prairie town. These included a graveyard, golf course, pub – among other things – but I should have included a park. Even if it is a small green space with a couple of swings, two or three picnic tables, along with a "him" and a "hers," that would be a healthy start.

Parks are certainly therapeutic for me personally. A walk in the park, especially if there are woods involved (hello, Echo Dale), somehow gives me perspective. Throw in a small stream or lake (again, Echo Dale or Henderson), and all is peace with the world.

I was marveling at the draw that a park has the other day when I had some of my kids at Henderson in Lethbridge. There were young families, young lovers, and even the odd businessman, although they weren't all that odd. The frantic yet positive energy, the gulps of glee, and the measurable tranquility was worth the stopover alone. In fact, I think I was the one gulping for glee – or was I just catching my breath from chasing kids?

Apart from the green space advantages (and I can say that without endorsing Greenpeace), I think the greatest plus with having as many parks as possible are the emotional and physical benefits. Those of us who live on acreages may not feel the same urge that city people have, but there still is the sense of peace that seems to come over me when I take time to hang out in a park.

Maybe it's the lack of bins, fence posts, and quonsets that does the trick for me.

I know in the bigger centres, and that includes both Lethbridge and Medicine Hat, that parks are like magnets for all sorts of illicit behaviour and transactions, usually after dark. This is, of course, a tragedy, but it shouldn't take away from its positive usefulness. An after-dark curfew would be one possible solution, but that seems so draconian to me.

If we can't get to a park to find a sense of balance in our life, maybe we should turn our lawns and gardens into parks. A pond here, trees over there, and of course, lots of walkways. And don't plant grass; plant rock gardens, instead: No park is complete without a variety of rock gardens, so you would need to put away that lawnmower, weed whacker, sprinkler, and trimmer. (Ah, I see you're warming up to the idea already.)

Less time manicuring that lawn of yours would mean more time enjoying the greenbelt that has replaced your lawn, or an actual park just around the corner. Think of the hours and dollars you would save. In fact, it would be cheaper than drugs, better than aerobics, and closer than Hawaii – or did I say that already?

Must be that park-like fresh air getting to my brain.