a day at cal anderson park
written by amelia rodriguez / a.k.a amy
published june 1, 2026
prelude: arrival in seattle
until march 22nd, 2026, i had never been to seattle before, let alone the state of washington. as a transgender non-binary person, this city has lived as an enigma of possibilities in my brain for the better part of the 2020s. years of hearsay and stories from friends had me feel like a giddy child when i thought of it, seeing it as numerous things before i ever stepped foot inside: the city for transgender people, the living melting pot for queer musicians, writers, game developers, any art form you can imagine, the city where the trans community is the most outwardly and freely visible. it felt borderline mythological to me. now, it was finally time to experience it, as i rode into seattle on an amtrak cascades train with my friend, alex.
we were excitedly greeted at king street station by the loved one who i would be staying with for the week. they guided us outside the station, and in an instant, i was greeted with the twang of a trolleybus's poles bouncing against the web of catenary wire above the street. brisk spring air blew into my face as i unzipped my hoodie to let the gusts reach more of my body. we walked across the street and waited for the bus to take us downtown. as my friends conversed with each other at the bus stop, i looked ahead in wonder at the skyline of seattle, closer than i've ever been to it. the only words bouncing back and forth the walls of my brain were “i'm really here.”
we exited the bus at 3rd ave & pine, and walked into a victrola coffee roasters at the stop. being a coffee-enthused barista, one of the many things i was excited to experience in seattle was the coffee scene, and my first taste did not disappoint! unsurprisingly, the prices were significantly higher than i was used to in chicago, but i never say no to supporting local coffeehouses. nonetheless, it was something i took note of as a stark difference between seattle and my home: at first glance, the cost of food and drink wasn’t very welcoming to a low-income person such as myself!
thankfully, my financial lamentation was put to rest as i sat back down with my friends, sipping on a delightfully acidic cortado and gazing out the window at 3rd avenue watching dozens of busses whoosh by. my loved one noticed my bus-gazing and paused their conversation with alex for a moment to tell me about how 3rd avenue is a bus-only road for most of the day. from the buses alone, it is readily apparent how much seattle cares about its public transit. during my entire hour of bus-watching, there was only a single car that turned onto the street. i even indulged in a bit of fantasizing of a world where my city’s western and ashland avenues were turned into bus-only roads. perhaps in an alternate universe out there, in a chicago that didn’t sell off their parking meter rights.
the coffee and bus-gazing had filled me with anticipation, and it was time for us to head to capitol hill, the neighborhood that would be my temporary home for the week of my visit. the three of us boarded an 11 bus as i longingly awaited my first real-life look at the place i had heard so, so many stories about.
exiting the bus, we were greeted by the entrance to the capitol hill light rail station. the first thing i did in capitol hill was get an orca card. the second thing i did was walk with my friends to the apartment i'd be staying in. to get there, we decided to take a stroll through cal anderson park. on this walk, an influx of emotion raced through my mind when i stepped onto a park that i have never been to before. my seattle friend introduced me and the park to each other.
“welcome to cal anderson!”
it was a beautiful, partly-cloudy seattle day. i eagerly took mental notes of everything i was seeing. the lushness of the grass steeped in morning dew, the fountain, the paths that curve and circle through the edges of the park. there was something new to see every time i turned my head around, every time i took a step forward. and then i grabbed my friend's hands, and we laughed and spun around in circles. the spinning stopped, and i took another look around. on top of one of the grassy hills was a memorial for renee good and alex pretti. in front of the pool of water, someone was tagging the wall. at the other side of the park, the sunday farmer's market was bustling.
i knew there was going to be life in spades in this space. i just wasn't expecting to get such a succinct image of it in my first ten minutes. i think it was an omen of good.
as our brief walk through the park ended, i parted with alex for the day, and went with my seattle friend to their home. alex and i agreed to meet up at cal anderson park the following morning, at 10am. with that, i settled into my temporary home for the week, and let my growing excitement tire my mind to sleep.
cal acidson
i woke up on march 23, 2026 at exactly 8:30 in the morning, with giddiness seeping into every inch of me. i got dressed: thick black leggings, a long-sleeved black shirt with frills on the sleeves, a gray beanie on my head with my hair parted on both sides of my neck, and my partner's treasured jubeat rhythm game hoodie that i borrowed from them before i left chicago. i hurried out the door to kill a bit of time before alex was ready to meet up with me.
i wanted to get coffee before doing anything else. i wanted to form a coffee routine in seattle. as i exited the front door of the apartment building, a cool breeze of air gently tapped my face. i would be spending the rest of this entire day outdoors, so it was good to get accustomed to the chill of the early spring morning.
my morning walk took me down broadway, walking down the street until i came across a coffee shop i liked. on my walk, i saw people coming out of their apartments. many of them with backpacks held up with one arm, and phone in the other. i thought about the people that were heading to work, and hoped they would have good shifts. i was hoping that some of them were in school, and only enjoying a spring break monday free from obligation. i felt privileged, being on vacation, seeing different people rushing to the bus and into their cars, while i was on a leisurely coffee-searching stroll.
my walk took me to an open-gate nook of a coffee shop called bean espresso. i said good morning to the person behind the counter, and before i ordered, i took a look around the inside. there was art of pikachu on the wall, and on the power box and pipe connecting to it, stickers were plastered everywhere, such that the metal beneath was barely visible. i thought about how many stickers i had already seen on poles throughout the city, and how you can so easily share ideas and spark conversations by creating art on tiny, sticky paper, using an entire city as your poster board for display.
i walked out of bean espresso with a decaf mocha. i didn't want to entertain the thought of having caffeine and being more awake than i was already going to become in an hour.
alex texted me, asking me to get some water, and that we'd meet at the park soon. entering broadway market, sipping on my mocha, i grabbed two tall bottled waters from the west end of the store. on the way to the register, i passed by the stairs to the second floor alcohol area. turning my head to glance as i passed, i noticed the alcohol cashier with a nervous expression on her face, in conversation with two seattle police officers who seemed to be having idle chat with her. i thought about how i handle police officers when they try to talk to me while i'm working as a barista, and hoped this girl would be able to take a breath soon.
exiting broadway market, it was finally time to walk to cal anderson park. i carried my things, and my confident smile, down broadway, turning onto east denny way, and finally into the park. i went up to the fountain and sat on the stone in front of it, texting alex that i was there and waiting. the park was still mostly empty, and life had not yet returned for the day.
ten minutes later, alex approached from east denny way. there she was: in her black jeans, with her body covered in her long fluffy-hooded black coat, her big smile visibly pushing up the round glasses perched on her nose. this was alex's default outfit for the cold, an appearance so comforting and ethereal i could almost see fit to use her as a pillow that wards away bad dreams. we hugged, both of us affable and ready. alex showed me the big picnic blanket she bought specifically for this day, and we walked forward and scanned our eyes across the grass by the fountain for a spot to claim.
it was under a tree near the fountain that we found our spot. a patch of grass under a tree that had yet to begin regrowing its leaves, branches stretching out to infinity if you looked at them from directly below. we unzipped the curled-up picnic blanket and laid it across the soft grass. the wind was gusty as we set our things down, and we held the blanket to the earth by putting our bags on both sides. finally sitting and relaxing onto the center of the blanket together, we took deep breaths. alex inquired.
“do you want to take it now?”
i marked the time in my notebook. at exactly 11:25am, alex and i put tabs of LSD in our mouths, a 115μg dose for each of us.
we got comfortable on the blanket, waiting for the psychedelic to take noticeable effect. the only plan that alex and i had for our outdoor acid trip was to sit and experience the world, and each other. we nibbled on nuts and a chocolate croissant that alex brought. not long after biting into the croissant that would end up taking me the entire day to finish, i had to use the restroom.
“hey, i think i need to go pee. i know the restroom is near the ball field, so i'll be right back!”
alex became slightly anxious. “are you sure you can get there? well, please hurry.”
i got up from the blanket and fast-walked past the fountain, through the middle of the park, rushed down the sloped hill and into the outhouse. it was as i ran down the small hill that i noticed my perception was starting to change.
after exiting the restroom, i felt compelled to run back to alex as fast as i could. as i approached the blanket, alex's face lit up. i kneeled onto the blanket in front of her, slightly out of breath, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. she told me that she also was noticing the visual effects now. so it was that when we realized our acid trip was ramping up, our voices ran silent. we stared into each other, with small, euphoric smiles gracing both of our faces.
a strand of hair fell over her left eye. utterly lost in a daze of beauty, but still wanting to readjust her hair, i weakly moved my hand through the strand. it promptly fell right back to where it was. alex let out a small giggle of playful exasperation.
“you could at least try, you know!”
wordlessly, i snapped myself out of my sapphic gaze. i took my hand and firmly took the strand, parting it behind her left ear as i kissed her forehead. alex said that she was going to lay down on the blanket to help her back. she laid down, and turned her head to stare at mine. i smiled at her, then moved my gaze toward the park. more people were slowly starting to appear, and my smile slowly began to widen further.
i turned back to alex, who told me that she took quite a liking to my gray beanie. kneeling over her, she stammered, and in lieu of speaking, steadily moved her eyes across my whole being, as if taking a mental backup of this exact moment in time. her eyes stopped at my face. eyes widening, she fought through her stammer and finally spoke.
“you are- a goddess.”
i squeezed her hand tightly, and she got back up to hug me. as we hugged, i started feeling a warmth that was not coming from alex's body. it was a ray of sunlight on my back. i looked up at the clouds to find patches of light that were breaking through the seattle sky. a word appeared in my brain. a desire appeared in my brain.
“alex! the sun is shining!! i'm going to lay down and bask in the glow for a while.”
“okay!!”
alex and i swapped places on the blanket, and she sat criss-crossed to my right as i laid down in front of her. unzipping my hoodie, and placing my arms behind my head, i looked up. the light of the sun was warming my face. i closed my eyes. in my lysergic state, my closed-eye visuals were that of the sun, personified as a bright yellow mosaic of stained glass that was alive, and breathing. it did not speak to me. but it communicated to me. this faceless deity saw fit to send me its warmth, its life, and i was receiving it. i was absorbing it. i was feeling that life.
i took a deep, deep breath. the only things that existed in my universe at that moment were me, the sun, and alex. the rays of light shimmered, and i felt warmth on different parts of my body. yet the light never left my face. it was clear to me that the sun is a busy existence. it can't shine on everything at once. different spots will take priority. but, somehow, i was blessed with its glow. i became friends with this glow. i became friends with the cool breeze. i became friends with the birds chirping nearby. i thought that there was nothing that could change this serenity.
i was wrong.
a sound. a sound. it was a sound, off in the distance, but audible all the same. and it was not a voice. it was not a chirp. it was not a car.
it was music.
cutting through the air, in that afternoon glow, was the gentle sound of a distant harmonica.
that sweet, sweet sound carried me from wakefulness into a wakeful dream. i decided to open my eyes into the dream, and turn my head to alex. she was already looking at me. my mouth sat open in awe as another chord played, and i gestured at the air. alex and i contemplated.
“am i hallucinating the harmonica?”
“i swear i hear it, too.”
i don't think it mattered.
i closed my eyes again, feeling the light, seeking out the sound. another slow chord faded into perception. and then, another. a new sound. it was a harmony; the slow chords of the harmonica reaching a tempered crescendo, and beneath it, was a long, gentle, unbreaking hum.
a tear started to form in my eye. i had never known such peace and contentedness. i had never known it was possible to feel this nirvana. i wept, ever so softly, knowing that it would not last forever. i wiped off my tears, ever so softly, finding comfort within myself that i was having this experience.
i opened my eyes, ever so softly, making peace with the fading of the afternoon sun.
the streaks of light started to vanish one after the other. the clouds were starting to dominate the seattle sky once more. the distant harmonica played one more long melody. i isolated a chord in my brain at that very moment. i made a promise to myself, to remember that sound. to remember that peace. to remember that dream.
then, i awoke.
i sat up next to alex. i took a deep breath. i took a minute to stretch. i gathered my bearings.
“good morning!”
alex's cheerful greeting activated my alertness. we shared a hug, and i took a look around to reconnect myself. i wanted to feel better connected with the people in the city. contrary to my preconceived notions, seattle is not mythical; it is a real place that lives, that breathes, that tells stories everywhere you go, everywhere you look. i was ecstatic to see that cal anderson had become a bustling place, a place full of queerness. alex and i began to people-watch, and there was still something new to see every time i turned my head around.
two friends sat on opposite sides of a bench, sharing a joint, embroiled in conversation.
a punk with messy bowl cut hair wandered the park for spots to tape posters to.
two puppygirls, one with dark brown dog ears and the other with a bright green tail, held hands as they looked for a good bench to sit at.
a person with purple-tipped hair holding a journal scribbled things down with their pencil as they kept looking up from the paper.
three skateboarders rolled past the fountain, one of them stopping and kicking their board up to their hand and continuing to talk without breaking a sweat.
a friendly-looking girl gallivanted past our picnic blanket, her eyes meeting mine as she flashed one of the biggest smiles a passing stranger has ever given me.
near the park entrance on east denny way, a person wearing a vest with the flag of palestine greeted a gathering of their fellow organizers with hugs and a drink carrier full of coffee.
i looked back at my picnic blanket. alex was enjoying the same view of life that i was. i broke the silence of our observation.
“everything is so colorful, and being in this state is only making me treasure it more!”
the goings-on of strangers was peaking my mind's curiosity. each person walking by our blanket had a story. each person was taking time out of their day to be in this park. each person who looked and smiled at alex and i as they walked past us held a thought about our picnic, if only for a moment. what kind of things were passerby thinking about us, as i was about them? a smile from a passing stranger is a powerful force, one that can make my entire day.
talking to alex about this color in our world, she begun to nod in agreement, when suddenly, from the tree above, a bird dropped an unfortunate marking at the edge of the blanket! resisting all urge to make an absolutely terrible pun, we giggled. focusing on each other, we grabbed napkins in unison, cleaning up the mess. the tree caught our attention further, and we looked up at it together.
this slumbering tree, with its endless branches all connected through the same stump, could evoke so many stories from the people that glimpse it. alex, keeping her gaze fixed above, started telling one of them.
“you know, these branches, they're like math. they're all related to each other!”
i stared at her inquisitively as she began orating, eager to hear what she, and the tree, had to say about a topic that until this day, was not something i would get excited about: mathematics. what is math, really?
it's about the relationships between things!
epilogue
night descended on seattle. it was finally time to wind down, and say good night to cal anderson park. alex and i finished packing up our belongings, and stood up into a hug. before leaving the park, i turned to the tree, and thanked it silently. it only felt right.
with less than an hour or so before our acid trip was completely over, and not wanting to turn in just yet, alex proposed the idea of going on a walk down broadway. back and forth, until we decided the day was over. she already knew my answer. i reached for her hand, and we set off on our broadway loop.
capitol hill at nighttime was a more beautiful sight than i had ever conjured in my idle daydreams. i looked with wonder at the nightlife that passed us as we walked. most of all, i hoped that every person we saw was enjoying their night; i hoped that every person who we shared the park with found something new to marvel at.
there is always a tiny corner of the world that you never notice until you find it without looking for it.
there is always somebody near you to smile at.
there is always something in your surroundings to give love to.
there is always a moment to open up your mind to what was once scary.
there is always a way to let out your feelings.
there is always a friend to share your experiences with.
there is always time to take a deep breath.
alex and i found ourselves at the north end of broadway again. in the distance, the streetcar rang its last bell, signalling the end of its run for the day. it was time for us to finish our day, too. we headed back south one more time. the grasp of our hands became stronger. finally arriving at our crossroads, we shared a powerful hug. i said good night to alex, and we split off for the night.
it wasn’t difficult for me to accept that the day was ending. i welcomed it with open arms, knowing that this was just the beginning of my week in seattle. i could think of nothing more exciting than that.