Vancouver moment

We talked recently about some San Francisco impressions. Now that I've lived in Vancouver for a while, I've done a lot of walking around and, naturally, have accumulated impressions about this city as well. Yes, it rains a lot. But the air off the Pacific Ocean is always clean and the summers are never muggy.

There is a little parkette above West 8th Avenue, where you can sit under the shade of trees and look northward across the city centre to the mountains. It's a nice patch of landscaping with grass, patio stones and benches with planters, tucked in behind an office tower on Broadway Avenue. This little oasis is elevated on the Fairview slope, and like so many properties in town, is bordered by an evergreen hedge. What's unique about it, however, is the view it offers of this fortunate city.

When you stand near the hedge, you can see over the neighbourhood rooftops, over the water of False Creek, to the tall city buildings and the North Shore mountains beyond. You also get a glimpse to the west of English Bay and the waters of the Georgia Strait.

It's a tranquil place, especially after office hours. It's nice to be there when the sky clears after a stretch of cloudy weather. Twilight can be special.

On certain quiet windless evenings, wispy layers of white cloud hang motionless just below the coastal peaks, hugging the trees on the mountainside, leaving the tops clear.

Looking between the buildings over to the west, you can see the cargo ships on the glassy water of English Bay turn on their lights as the sun disappears behind the silhouette of Vancouver Island beyond. The lighthouse at Point Atkinson blinks on and off, signalling the arrival of nightfall.

It's a place and time that soothes in so many ways...


Photo credit:
Thanks to Jason Antony, who made his shot available at sxc.hu

Additional Links:
False Creek
Point Atkinson pictures
English Bay
Vancouver Island
Georgia Strait

Previously in this blog:
A seal and a ferry in the Strait
False Creek at night
English Bay view

Toronto evening

Have you ever noticed how rain on city streets makes them look better? This is especially true at night, when light reflects off the slick asphalt. I think this is a reason why movie sets are watered down for night scenes; everything assumes a uniform sheen; no stains, uneven patches, or dirt.

Last night, we were driving downtown after a day of rain. The roads were slick. The effect on the city was that even down-and-out neighbourhoods seemed to look a little more polished. Street lights, automobile lights and store lights all reflected on the shiny black surface, creating an impressionistic collage of colours. The wet rails of the streetcar tracks and the wet overhead wires added to the reflections. Toronto seemed so much more like the big world capitals we see in movies.

The fact that it was a warm summer night made it even better. No need to wrap ourselves in scarves and heavy clothing, shielding ourselves from the wind. What breeze there was, was refreshing; and the warmth of the evening made everything feel, well, warmer. We passed by a spotless coffee shop, it's beige and brown interior and soft lighting spilling out onto the sidewalk in an inviting way. It reminded me of Hemingway's short story about two bartenders in Europe. He called it "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place"... This place certainly was.

I walked up the steps of St. Paul's Basilica, just east of Parliament Street, and read on the plaque that it was built in the early 1840s in the first Roman Catholic Parish in Upper Canada. The architecture is Romanesque, with a tall square bell tower. I had not seen the church before. It was also the site of an early Catholic cemetery in Toronto. The basilica stands on a small plot of grassy land. The rain on the natural stone exterior was so much better looking than the wet concrete on some of the other downtown buildings.

The wetness of the evening also brought out the smells of nature; the leaves on the trees, the wet grass, the subtle scents of flowers in planter boxes. We drove in the Don River valley and entered another world; vast greenery in the heart of the city: the lamplights on an empty walking path; a baseball diamond, green and wet under the lights, vacant. We drove up Rosedale Valley Road, a dripping, tree-covered tunnel, and then, suddenly, emerging near Yonge and Bloor, with trendy Yorkville at a stone's throw. And, again, lights and billboards reflecting on the pavement.

Vertical farms

My mother lives in a downtown apartment building. She grew up on a farm and sometimes misses the country. She loves to grow things.

On the roof of her building she found some planter boxes and planted herbs in them. She waters them. When she needs some herbs for cooking, she enters the elevator, travels to the top of the building, cuts what she needs and returns to her kitchen.

Well, it turns out that similar ideas have occurred to a professor at Columbia University in New York. He dreamed big and sparked the imagination of architects.

Together they're proposing "vertical farms," tall buildings devoted to growing food for thousands of people in the city.

Check out the slide show as well.

Have a good weekend!

Saturday night

The radio in the car is playing upbeat trumpet jazz and the road is bright: big city lights ahead. Saturday night and the cares of the week have been left behind; at six-thirty the highway is a river of headlights flowing easily towards the heart of Toronto.

The skyline glitters with office towers and condominiums; the gigantic CN tower rising above them, a multi-colored light show decorating it's tall concrete base. The tower is trying to present a younger image of itself, having undergone somewhat of a makeover. A light show draws attention to it: think of an enormous needle with a swoosh of light rising rapidly to the top, much like mercury rising with unnatural speed along a gigantic thermometer, and then quickly dropping to the base, only to repeat again in different colors.

The radio tuner in the car moves from radio station to radio station, reflecting my feelings tonight -- a little bit of rock-and-roll, then some disco, back to upbeat jazz and over to funk. No racing the clock tonight; just rhythm and movement; an easy drive without any need to hurry.

I drive along Lake Shore Boulevard, the music high. Lake Ontario to the right is dark, except for occasional reflections of light on the water; shafts of light that stretch and waver with the movement of the water. The boardwalk along the coastline is empty, but the grass on the side still comes through green despite the darkness.

The city presents itself as a big and pleasant party destination: the Toronto Maple Leafs are playing the New York Rangers in ice hockey; people are stepping out to for dinners or theatre shows; a walk with friends, a talk at Starbucks or a drink at the local bar.

Toronto really is growing up, looking more and more like Chicago, Boston or parts of Manhattan. On a fine autumn night, it presents itself with blemishes hidden and its jewelry on, ready for an evening of fun.

Lately, the Canadian dollar has risen vigorously above its American cousin, and held its own in the international markets. It seems the city wants to show the world it has come of age.