I love where I live. I love the noise and energy of the knockabout downtown. The diversity of all us that live here. And the tourists. The history welling within the bricks of this old neighbourhood. The endless supply of new things to do, different foods to try and culture to explore. That I don’t need to own a car. And that I can walk to work! Many unique neighbourhoods to discover. Grand building and humble alleys. A killer view of a really great skyline.
And a short walk to a small, floating, quieter world where just sitting down to watch if for a little while will soothe the mind and breath from all that bustle when it needs to.
This morning I'm moving about my place, finishing coffee and packing things up for work, and I'm stopped still by the sun showing itself, suddenly, in a mirror.
"Good morning," the sun says. "What's your hurry?"
"I'm glad to see you too," I say.
I've been away from my home for a week, being stand-in-mommy for my cousin in Riverdale. When I get back, I find this large and lusty gal docked across the street. A quick search tells me she has been up for sale, and just sailed up the St. Lawrence Seaway from Nova Scotia to stay for the winter.
She can light up a room, wouldn't you say?
When I was a little girl, I was enchanted with a foggy morning. Mist, with it's silvery, lavenderish cast, was more beautiful than the sunniest of June days. I would run to school imagining I was an angel running amongst the clouds, filled with energy as if the close air enveloped me with some new and everlasting oxygen.
The fog still calls to me and I still go half expecting to find another world.
I get home from the long work day after a weekend of fun, after riding in the rain and wet streets, and as I'm locking up my bike I see this rainbow showing itself between a gap in the clouds. It's kind of like the universe is saying, "Aw c'mon, it's not so bad! You get a short work week, and it's autumn! Autumn is nice! Happy up kid!"
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.
Monday night and a gentle walk in the Harbour and the Toronto Music Garden. The season is changing – the birds are gathering and readying for migration, vegetation is ripening, and a few leaves are already beginning to fall. If I didn't love this time of year so much, I might start mourning the summer in advance of its leaving us.