Place: The short section of W Cary Street between the intersections with Belvidere and Laurel. Richmond, VA
Time: Around 3:30pm. You can feel the beginning of the sunset on the horizon due to the time of the year, but there’s no obvious signs. Later afternoon, nearly winter.
Weather: The kind of cold that’s actually rather pleasant. It begins to make you actually feel it, working its way inside your sweatshirt or jacket after a little while, but for the 15 minutes I perused this section of street, it was quite bearable. It’s clear that we’re nearing the end of a season or that the weather is just changing soon because I’m not quite used to it yet. A comfortable kind of cold, the kind of cold it’s fun to be outside in. A slight breeze, keeps my hair moving but not too noticeable other than that.
Observations: The bricks that I am walking on are slightly varying in color, some brighter orange, but with some nearing the territory of a deeper brown. They’re uneven. Near the trees that occasionally break up the grey concrete curb bordering the asphalt street. Implying the presence of tree roots that aren’t actually visible on the surface. But other places as well. This street is worn and well traveled, there’s many streaks on the bricks of varying colors. Some black, reminiscent of the rubber streaks one would see on the linoleum of your high school’s hallways. Some a more perplexing shade of brown or red. These are more clearly grime. Marks left behind by the many that travel along this road on a daily basis. Speaking of the grime, there’s lots of it. Near the seam where the road meets the buildings on my left side, where small tufts of grass and assorted weeds poke through there also rests assorted trash. Chip wrappers, scraps of trampled takeout containers, bottle caps. There’s an air of constant use and simultaneous neglect that permeates this street.
On my left side as I walk up the street there’s buildings. All a lower height than we see elsewhere in the city. Most only 2 or three stories. It brings a distinctly suburban feel to the area. They stand in the shadows of the much more impressive university buildings across the street, but don’t seem to feel quaint or small because of it. They’re all flat. They come right up to the edge of the sidewalk. Clearly taking up all of the space that they can, maximizing the expensive city real estate. That being said, there’s a couple more unusual houses. Two normal looking homes, they seem like a relic of a previous time. They have porches and windows with storm shutters. I’m not exactly sure why they remain here, but they remain, seemingly holding off the encroaching city suburbs around them. Their lawns set them slightly off from the street. One of them has some sort of dense tree or bush in the front yard, leaving the entryway in deep shadow and seemingly shielding the house from the street. This further house has a sign in front of it, indicating it to be a land surveying group. The house is distinctly residential in look, but actually turns out to be home to a commercial endeavor, interesting.
This strange mixture of residential and commercial continues further down the street. The next building is also large and square. Taking up every inch of space that it can. A set of double doors is held close by a realtors lock box, directly next to a faded, curling, tattered poster that proclaims “Units Available!”. The floors above contain plain square windows, none of them are clearly decorated, it’s unclear if they’re occupied. With no clear border between the two, the street level of this building transitions into a cafe of some sort. They advertise boba tea and other treats. The inside of the shop is heartily decorated with neon signs and is awash in a very warm orange light. There’s a couple people inside it seems. Cartoon drawings of boba tea cups decorate the outside of the store, advertising vegan options and multiple fruit flavors. As you continue, the continuous wall of building breaks again, this time into a parking garage. The walls are painted in a vibrant cosmic design, or perhaps maybe botanical. It’s full of purple and green and I can’t really tell. There’s a trash area to one side of this parking garage, complete with an overflowing dumpster and surrounded by discolored patches of concrete floor. The parking lot is mostly full, newer-looking cars fill about 8 of the 10 or so visible spots. there’s another opening on the other side, leading to what appears to be more outside parking.
Past the entrance to the parking garage, there’s a couple empty storefronts. Their ornate facades and doorways are both locked shut. Inside the front window of one of these sits a sign for a realtor, presumably attempting to sell this property. On the side of the blue building that contains both of these storefronts there is a pink, purple, and white geometric mural painted. Next to the doorway of the storefront on the right several posters are wheat pasted up. Both contain skeletons and many slogans decrying gentrification. Inside the shop on the right there are still booths lined up on the left side, implying that this building was once a restaurant.
I hit an intersection here, to my left there’s a street lined with trees and behind them, traditional suburban houses typical of this part of the city. There are cars parked bumper to bumper all along it and multiple intersections visible further down. All of these roads are narrow, only allowing for one way travel. I’m standing at what seems like some sort of border. To my right the university campus sprawls out. To my right, normal people live. I feel like I’m almost looking through a sort of portal. Due to the fact that these buildings are tall, square, and push right up to the sidewalk, the dwellings beyond feel almost entirely isolated from the near constant movement of the rest of the city. It’s interesting to see people pass through this, they almost always have the look of someone setting out. I believe it’s because the road I’m standing on is a one-way, only allowing travel into the larger, more open city campus, but it feels like all the people passing by me are at the beginning of their travels. Leaving the confines of the more comfortable district within which they live, out into a wider, more hostile section of this metropolis.
