The Hill

When I moved to Brooklyn many moon ago, I lived in South Park Slope. I loved my walk-up with rusted pipes and slanted floors. My landlord was named Lucy, a matriarch from downstairs, whose door was always open for rice and beans. We called her Mama.

In no time, I was spending weekends exploring the neighborhood, even though my first New York chill had come. I walkdownstairs, leave my building, turn left and start down the slope.

Sixth Avenue still had brownstones. Fifth Avenue was 99-cent stores and old-man-bars. Fourth Avenue was an impassable river of trucks and cars. Third Avenue was brooding.

Then I hit the canal.

What was this? A waterway in the middle of Brooklyn? This was a delightful surprise to one who has always been drawn to water. I was thrilled -- the stench below didn't faze me. I found the decay attractive.

The Gowanus Canal became my first secret urban friend inmy new city landscape. None of my circle, except the native city folk, knew about it. Few of the people I worked with had heard of it.

Some historians think the name, Gowanus, is derived from Gowane, Native American leader of the Canarsees, who lived in Brooklyn. Others think it is from the Dutch word, gouwee, meaning bay. Originally it was a creek that ran through part of South Brooklyn. In the mid-17th century a canal was added to connect to Red Hook and ease the delivery of goods from one side of Brooklyn to the other. By 1848, the entire waterway was widened and transformed into a transportation hub for shipping and manufacturing. Since then, pollution, shifts in industry, and decay left the canal a stinking mess.

But I loved it. I have walked all of the canal's shores and crumbling bulkheads. I have seen it flood its banks with sewer driven gloop. I have seen the sun set and rise again over its oily and dead waters.

Then someone turned a switch and a propeller brought back life. A family of ducks made their home. Oysters were raised for school projects. Schools of fish flourished. One cold spring day, an ivory swan brought grace to the slow waters.
This winding conduit of urban nature brought me peace.

Today on my exploration, in conjuction with the annual open artists' studios tour, I found a part of the canal I have never seen, if only because it existed beyond a forbidden sign.

I have no idea how many times I have walked the circuit around the canal, but to find a fresh landscape to explore was invigorating.

What really drew my eye was this:

A hill made of up layers of what can only be described as crap. Bottles, dirt, rugs, pipes, plastics, metal, and unknown materials. Imagine what historical poisons may exists deep in this mound of waste. And throughout vegetation was flourishing. And vegetables?! Anyone know what these are?

There were a few people working nearby, but they had no explanation for me. Was this some sort of environmental accident that a century of industry left to fester? If so, nature was taking hold in its rich environs.

The canal is as rich in history as it in smell and I will explore that in future posts. Today I was reminded that despite its toxic history a lot of green can take root and flourish.

I may need to go back with disposable clothing and some good, heavy-duty gloves and climb the damn thing.

To learn more about the canal and its history, try the Brooklyn Historical Society.
For rides on the canal, try The Gowanus Dredgers .
An interesting educational project about the canal is here .

Posted by alexis at October 23, 2004 09:12 PM