Every September I say it. It’s the most beautiful month of the year where I live. Summer is still here and yet the evenings are beginning to cool. Soft breezes visit often. Wild flowers fall about lazy and flourishing in their rich colours. Spectacular cloud formations make the skies endlessly entertaining. And the light – the light of September is its greatest gift: soft, translucent, dreamy, gentle.
Sunday. We lounge a little over coffee, and then head out for a bike ride out to the Beaches and back, with the idea that we'll have brunch on a patio on our return. I have two of these with that excellent brunch.
Later, we buy some veg and wine for dinner later and then go hang out on my building's rooftop and watch the CNE's annual air show. There is more than one reason that air shows creep me out. One is related to a recurring nightmare I had back in a former life, which always culminated in a small plane crash. In a harbour. Much like the harbour sitting underneath these dipping and twirling machines.
The other creep factor is the raw fear the sound of the fighter jets in particular awake in me. For a moment, as it roars overhead, higher and higher, preparing for its hurtling dive back to earth, I am rendered frozen, hands tingling, heart racing.
The synchronized flying is beautiful, and I do enjoy watching. But it's an uncomfortable appreciation.
Today we sleep in, and I feel a little bad because my guests are back at my place and have to find breakfast for themselves. Who am I kidding? My guests are just fine, like I knew they'd be. There is lots of food they make breakfast and take off to deliver Jared's bike to his place. Ceri goes off to explore new wheel options for my bike and I walk back and meet up with the gals. Later, we all go for a walk in the Harbourfront, shop the pretty scarves and fabric arts, eat some roasted corn from the One Love Corn Soup guy, and have a Caesar and watch the tourists.
After Deb and Mary Jane get on the road to go home, my lovely main man and I go bike shopping. Turns out my old wheel is not so easily replaced, and it's more financially feasible to buy a new one on sale. I decide on this terrifically maneuverable new ride; it feels great to be rolling again. Ceri provides me with sufficient locking up hardware to ensure neither tires nor seat nor frame will be robbed without big effort and bigger tools under that big light I'm parking it under.
It's been a stellar weekend.
It's a lovely evening, and I take a bike ride along the lakeside path to the west. On my way back I stop on the Humber River Bridge because the sky is asking for a fresh portrait. I oblige it with three.
After dinner I decide I want to go for a bike ride. I'm feeling like a nice easy evening bike ride, but find it's still kind of windy. Windy enough to get me not a little winded and wondering why my legs don't want to work harder than they do.
About halfway as far as I'd intended to go I stop to get these shots. Because I didn't have today's picture of the day; not because of yesterday's Pilates class.
I get home tonight and find there's less room than usual at my usual locking up spot. I have to stick mine in between two others, mixing up handlebars and touching rear ends. I'm usually not so crazy about intimate contact with other city dwellers, but these dwellers are squeaky clean and pretty attractive.
The party has been invaded by a couple of a flashy, beautiful broads. Shiny brand new roadsters, one white, one black. The black one is completely tricked out – a rack, a basket, fenders, a rubber-covered u-lock, an elasticised strap. And that seat! Classy brown leather look and the springiest springy shocks. I could ride to Vancouver on that thing. The tires have those sticky outy rubber protusions are all over them, I don't think they've ridden a block. I can't believe that bike is parked outside. In downtown Toronto.
I lock up my dusty old olive green Chevy and wish the new Beemer owners many miles of happy riding. And I covet those shiny fenders.
We ride back to have a peaceful early dinner at the Keating Channel and are disappointed to find the place has turned into an afternoon dance club with horrible dance club "music" grinding loud over the patio. We leave and ride over to the Esplanade and a enjoy patio dinner there. I have salad with steak and beets and bits of stilton cheese.
Later I meet Kelsey at the Harbourfront and we walk around the piers and look at the vendors' goods and have a drink and chat near the kids' canoeing pond.
Not pleased to get back to the office tomorrow. But I am pleased with how this vacation unfolded; I feel rested and happy and I'm sporting a fabulous tan.
First day of vacation today. Most of it devoted to being ready for the rest of the vacation.
In the afternoon I ride downtown to do a couple of quick things at the office, go to the gym, and shop for a few items. When six o'clock rolls around I'm famished, and stop at Fran's for that big salad. I can't get a seat on the patio, but that's okay. All those shmucks that did get seats on the patio won't get to be sitting on the deck of the cottage on the Manitoulin Island next week.
Before getting on my bike to head home, I find this sculpture of a little family in Berczy Park. I think it's an appropriate shot in celebration of my upcoming holiday with my family.