Humboldt Park - Western Avenue: West Bridgeport
The vast expanses of Humboldt Park border on definition, lying somewhere between an overgrown and non-maintained park, and a partially cleared, path-trodden forest. Several benches and picnic tables sit here and there. The tables and benches are mostly cracked and chipped, a couple thrown down and broken. The swingset of the playground is bent, one of those swings torn from the chain that supports it. As the path stretches away from the entrance, branching out into several smaller paths, everything grows darker somehow. Park merges into forest, concrete and gravel turns to shaggy grass and loose dirt, remnants of civilization turn into overgrown wilderness. The Chicago skyline stands in clear view from both the western side of Bridgeport and upon walking into the park, but as one ventures further away and into the woods, it slowly disappears.
By day Humboldt Park is mostly 'safe,' as long as one stays near the area that surrounds the entryway. But even then, as the park stretches out over the squared miles of land, it always seems as if the viewer is being watched, a perpetual night even with the sun shining above. However, when night itself does come, only the brave of heart or the dumb of wit dare to step foot here.