The Harbourfront starts to feel a little lonely in November; all those tourists have gone back to wherever it is they come from. I do find a little comfort in the quiet. The longer stretches of night enfold you; life becomes quieter, less public. In January I'll be aching for more light, but lonely November comes welcome.
It's just starting to rain, and I'm heading toward home when I catch a corner of that improbable glow. So I walk back the other way to see it fully. Because, funny thing is, it's evening, and I'm looking west. The sun is behind that building and a whole bunch of heavy clouds. Somehow that light found a way to burst through and bounce off another building and onto this one. Just in the moment I would see it.
My home is not a lot of things. Homey, for one. But when I go outside, this is the essence of it, for me. Coming, going, lolling about, landing, escaping, arriving, visiting, leaving, wandering. There is something about this perpetual movement that appeals to me. The vagabond in me.
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.
It seems to happen in summer. Often on the heels of a holiday. I get assessing my life and work and start wondering just what it is I really want. I do like my current job; I like my colleagues and I make a comfortable wage I have good benefits and I am appreciated and I can walk to work. I've got it good. But at times like this, my thoughts start hanging on to ideas about fulfillment. I'm feeling like I need to be focusing on a path.
It's summer – it's probably just a yearning to be outside more; to get the hell out of the office.
But it's good to remember that thoughts, like wishes, float across one's consciousness like evening sunlight over the sails of a passing ship. And the luminescence of a wish, like light on a sail, is enough reason to pay attention to it; to consider or reconsider the path you're taking.
Even if nothing comes from it, it's good to remember to look in; to welcome change; and to consider new paths forward. Summer's always good about reminding us of that freedom.
Funny thing about canoes. You can look at one when you're in the middle of a big proposal and suddenly you're imagining yourself on a river to nowhere in particular and the only thing you hear is the occasional shout of a bird, lazily accompanying your journey, tree by tree, and the lapping of the paddles like a soft, reliable heartbeat.
… between the looming thunderstorm, the pink clouds and the cerulean sky.
Can't call a winner, but it was sure nice being out there. Summer, I'm so glad you're here.
This morning before work I make my breakfast and enjoy it, and then my lunch because I didn't make it last night. Before I put my makeup on and get dressed I finish loading the dishwasher and run it and clean those last few un-dishwasherable things in the sink and sip my coffee with pleasure.
I go to the gym over a late lunch, even though we had a meeting at noon and technically that was lunch.
I shop a little on the way home. It's hot, and I'm glad to get in. I try a new recipe for cauliflower fritters and decide I might try them again but with certain changes, like ditching the garlic and adding some onion and something bitey like mustard and/or chili powder. While the things are cooking I sort the laundry and throw a load in.
I don't have today's picture yet so after I've cooked and eaten, I go for a walk over to the Toronto Music Garden. It's much changed from the two weeks since I've been there last – plants are spilling everywhere and there's a rowdy bird party going on in the trees. I shoot a bunch of shots, and decide I should walk back home and then wonder, why? Why leave a garden in a hurry?
When I do get home I go down to the parking garage where my bike is sitting in many layers of dust and dirt. I give it a good washing down and pump up the tires and I'm tempted to take it for a spin but I'm thinking of the shape of my kitchen after the new recipe tryout and the laundry that needs to be transitioned from washer to hanger-up thingy or dryer.
I deal with the laundry and I clean up the kitchen and take a shower and sit down to sort out the photos. I'm glad I didn't take too many.
Suddenly it's bedtime and again I didn't get around to visiting blogs or responding to comments on mine and I STILL didn't shorten those pants, and my place STILL looks a mess. But one couldn't fault me for not stopping to smell the roses. And tomorrow's another day.
The problem with posting early in the day is that you might find some great images later! After dinner Ceri and I take a walk, first in the Toronto Music Garden, and then over to the Harbourfront Centre. I don't need to tell you it was a beautiful evening.