Spots

Just a thought on one of the polyvalences of place - the spot. Perhaps this has already been talked about by someone, but it came to me, as I walked home from the gym today, as new.

Between Weyburn Terrace and the edge of campus, there are three hilly blocks of residential housing that I walk to whenever I go to or from the gym. On one of these blocks, there is a section - a spot - in which some ground vines have grown over the sidewalk, limiting the possible passage of two people to just one. Over half the sidewalk path is choked out by these vines, and today, I had to wait for someone else to pass through these six or seven feet of vinewalk before I could continue home. Then I got to thinking, should they cut these vines back? No, I thought, this is a nice spot on my (quasi-)daily trek. Some of the spots I pass through are too close to loud frathouses, some smell strongly of noxious garbage, and others are blocked by cars parking on driveway entrances. There are good spots and bad spots on my daily trek.

In a restaurant, there may be certain tables or seats that are "bad spots" due to their location under a strong-blowing air-conditioning duct, near a door that opens to a cold street, or seating that leaves one susceptible to bumps from passersby.

The power of these spots lies within their ability to shift one's routine. If I frequently take a walk through an area, I might do it in order to enjoy a spot, such as a tree of blooming lilacs. On the other hand, I may avoid a path that contains troubling or troubled spots, such as a sidewalk temporarily disrupted by a repavement. After discovering late last week that the elevator in my apartment complex was unwilling to stop at my floor, I consistently attempted to use it, hoping it would give in and let me out. Eventually I remade my path to my apartment through the staircase, and today I discovered, almost by accident that the elevator had been repaired. A troubled spot made me remake my route.

Is "spot" really a different way of looking at a place. I thought perhaps it was due its seeming irrelevance, yet pervasive presence in the world. They are, for me, temporary points of the day, that may or may not be consistently reproducible in the future. Their tones can make a place pleasant or unpleasant, and their variance can subtlety shift a daily routine. They are too transitory to visit (a passing lilac tree, but not a garden) and too seemingly minor to really shift one's attitude towards a place (in a restaurant, one can move to a table that is more comfortable for whatever issue one may have); they are not the big game changers. Spots go largely unnoticed, but they color our lives.