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BREATHING ROOM

A bridge to tranquillity

June 02, 2005|Steven Barrie-Anthony

Haggard and achy at day's end and still not home. Talk radio blares about another highway shooting, and you think: no wonder. Staring through the windshield, you imagine trading in the car for a helicopter or hovercraft or hot air balloon, anything to avoid the freeways. Anything to float above this. Anywhere but here.

But here you remain. Traffic's not going anywhere. So give in, exit the freeway and park near the Colorado Street Bridge, the graceful concrete arc that traverses the Arroyo Seco at the west end of Old Town Pasadena. Ensconce yourself in one of the span's roomy benches. It's strange to find peace on a bridge, with cars. But there's a Zen tranquillity, a breeze that wafts gently through the columns behind you and smells faintly of honeysuckle.

There's greenery beneath you and on all sides, and mountains to the north, but more eye-catching is the traffic snaking nearby along the 134. It's actually beautiful. And if you lie down on the cool concrete bench, vibrations from passing cars feel like a massage. You might even catch yourself napping.

-- Steven Barrie-Anthony

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