Despite the tension that most people seem to feel in a parking deck - note its frequent usage as a set for scenes of drama or horror in films - I find the ambiance of a parking deck hypnotic.
In the morning, as I arrive at work, I frequently catch myself listening to the acoustic echoes of car doors slamming, somewhere as I walk towards the stairs…
slam, slam… slam... slam, slam, slam…
Over, and under, that sound lies:
the rumble of cars moving on the level(s) above you…
the soft slap of feet as others, off in the shadows, also move towards the exits…
I park on the lowest level of our deck at work. If the weather cooperates and the right combination of humidity and external temperature hits the trapped air down there, you walk out in the fading light of evening to find a cool mist hovering in the dim light of the bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Add that to the sounds above, and - if you let yourself - you may find a that you do possess a subtle sense of wonder.
At least I do.