Oakland is short on urban parks. We don't have anything that can compare to Golden Gate Park in San Francisco for size or grandeur, just our overcrowded Lake Merritt area and a few other small parks that I find questionable in terms of safety, though our houses do have large yards compared to the tiny or non-existent yards of most San Francisco homes. And we do have many acres of beautiful woodland parks with hiking and horseback trails, towering redwoods and rolling hills with spectacular views. But of course, they're not located in the heart of the city. It's not that long a drive to any of them, but Bob and I do have to drive to get there, usually via expressway, which discourages us.
We did manage to get to Redwood Park yesterday. It's a short drive from our house once you're in the car. It's not the drive that daunts us, you understand, it's the thought of the drive. Once in the car, I enjoy zooming down the expressway to my destination and Bob perks up, commenting enthusiastically on everything interesting that he can spy. If he were a dog, he'd be up on his hind legs, his face hanging happily out of the window, ears pointed and tail wagging.
Redwood is my favorite Oakland park. I haven't been there in over a year so I was very glad to see it. It was a perfect day: cloudless blue skies, warm sun and lots of greenery from the recent rains. We did our usual walk down the broad path that takes you from sunny meadows into shady redwood groves. The temperature drops as you enter the forest, natural refrigeration. "There's no there there," people like to say about Oakland, citing the misunderstood quote from Gertrude Stein about her childhood home. But when you stand in the heart of the redwood grove, you know you've arrived. You're there.
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