I’ve already confessed my love of walking on this blog – tracking my steps, following railway tracks – but there’s a slightly weirder side to my walking that I feel I need to admit to you. And here it is: one of my favourite places to walk is the underground parking lot next to my house.
I know, I know. Most people avoid parking garages, and being able to walk around in one alone without being paranoid likely smells like privilege, but I want to tell you why I like it.
First, it’s pretty big. Two levels, the lower one of which has very few cars in it, and therefore very few people. I almost never see anyone down there, so it feels like my own private cave.
Second, it’s got motion-sensor fluorescent lighting. So when I arrive, it’s quite dark…but then as I walk along I get the feeling of conjuring light by my mere presence, which is a cool (if admittedly bizarre) ego boost.
I’ve been walking down there (usually on rainy days or overly cold days or days when walking around the neighbourhood isn’t enticing but I still need steps) for a few months now. While I usually listen to a podcast or audiobook, recently I went down with my ears unplugged and got quite a surprise when I sneezed.
I was startled by the multi-second echo it created.
The whole space seemed to grow a bit bigger, and I had to stop for a second to listen to the decay.
If you’re not so into listening to the reverberations of your own sneezes, fair enough. That’s probably healthy. But might I suggest the works of saxophonist Caleb Arredondo, who used parking garages as the setting for his beautiful “Echo Sax” pieces.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. His precision. You can hear every note.
2. His ease. He’s doing something difficult, but making it sound easy.
3. The echo. You can really hear the shape and texture of the space he’s in.
Recommended listening activity:
Making words out of the letters on license plates.