On the corner of Cesar Chavez and Congress Ave., I find a waterfall. Water falls from street level, down a man-made granite structure, to the holding area – in a business park. At the bottom of this fall, I am sitting on a bench. Benches face the water for the purpose of viewing – or sitting and eating one’s lunch while viewing, or sleeping as someone else is doing. Benches complete a picture someone had.
The natural elements: water, sun on water, true-blue sound of water falling, knowledge that slick-cut granite was once rough: beauty. Structured, formal form used to bring these elements to the entrance of a 30 plus story glassy building: appreciated for room they make for light, water, sound on this street, but nothing in and of themselves.
When I walk past the top of the falls at street level, wind sprays droplets on me: this initial captivation, the spray and the splash, drew me to sit at the bottom. Sound of water falling nearly blocks out noise of traffic. Not quite.