Last weekend, before we got socked with this dumping of snow, we had two days of luscious, gorgous vitamin D. When the days are sunny in February – everyone busts outside. On Saturday I shopped and walked in my neighbourhood, and then later in the afternoon I walked via the beach to have burgers and beers with a friend and the colours tagged along.
A tiny little mitten, no more than three inches high, hung in a tree in the hopes that the owner's grownup will find it:
Then, into the park and up towards Queen Street the light softens. I admire it on the giant humanoid tree legs and their snakey tree arms reaching out. Maybe they're reaching out toward the last bit of daylight. Or to spring. Compared to the yellows and oranges down at the beach, I think this muted light is mystical.