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I went to the Riverfront Park at about five o clock. I came in by Toulouse St. The river stunk really bad, almost like something had died a while back and decomposed right in front of where I was sitting. Actually the smell was somewhat faint, but after I noticed it I couldn’t ignore it. The breeze brought the smell in from the river. But I accepted the smell after a while because the breeze was worth it. River breezes are very pleasant in the summer. Mississippi’s breeze was refreshing in a sense, not cool, but the moving air helped cut the humidity and dried up all the sweat from riding my bike.

The Mississippi River is not what I would call a pretty river, at least not in New Orleans. First, due to the nature of New Orleans’ elevation being below sea level, only a couple of places have public access to the riverfront (or any water bodies even though the city is surrounded), Riverfront Park being one. Second, the river is heavily industrialized. Combining these two factors means that in the few places you can get to the Mississippi the view is of industrial machinery and dirty water—though I am a fan of industrial equipment and large boats, etc. Still, this is not an exactly an ideal river view or experience. Perhaps the real issue of shore-to-river interaction, at Riverfront Park and on the river walk way, is that neither of these things activates the relationship with the river. You have two options, sit and look, or pass through and look. Static.

I guess historically the Mississippi has served New Orleans in a very business and industrial sense. The Mississippi is for work. Granted, the river is also the reason New Orleans exists and has such a prominent role in the national makeup. It’s one of our most important ports. The river made the radial grid system for the streets (causing directly, with other factors, the distinctiveness of neighborhoods). Though the Mississippi is perhaps the most important generator of all things New Orleans, the treatment of the river architecturally does it no justice. Hopefully the Reinventing the Crescent project will do something to fix the present oversight. As the author states in “An Urban Design Hypothesis”, the Mississippi is an urban artifact. Wherever the river contacts a city, public space is created to interact with the river, poorly or not. Currently, at least at Riverfront Park, the public space consists of some benches and a walkway with some greenery.

I say this not in the sense that I don’t enjoy the park. I enjoy sitting in the benches and looking at the river. I especially enjoy watch the passing barges and big boats. People watching is next in line. A lot of different people come to the park. It seems empty at first, but if you stop for a while there is a steady flow of people. Some people come to exercise, which seems like an out of the way place to do so. One lady ran by me four or five times. The park is not next to any residential neighborhoods, kind of inconvenient. I guess the river makes up for it. I listened to a guy play drums on buckets for a while. He was pretty good. Three different homeless-looking men at three different times walked or rode by talking to themselves. I saw a woman straddling a man on one of the benches. They were making out vigorously. I rode by them on my bike. Old people like to sit at the park. One guy walked past me, looked at me, walked back and sat at the next bench. He would say things out loud, ask questions, etc. as if he were talking to someone (I was the only one there). At first I thought he was talking to me so I answered him. He was definitely not talking to me. Then he tried to figure out the words to a song he couldn’t quite remember. I looked over at him and he was leaning back and forth, very exaggerated. When I left, I passed him on my bike. He stared at me and made weird motions with his hands. In retrospect I think he was drunk or schizophrenic. Hell, maybe all the Riverfront Park needs to be is a sidewalk and some benches.