It rains in Toronto. But lightly. It’s a polite rain and each raindrop seems to say sorry and excuse me and feels embarrassed to exist. Note: Picture taken the next day in the morning commute to work. The rain has friends: wind and cold. Alone each friend is not at its best but together the trio are dynamic and powerful. Buy a raincoat. The rain is also shy. It arrives and hangs around but never long. It’s polite in this way. But the rain still visits. Buy a raincoat. A raincoat that isn’t bulky. That’s packable in it’s own case. And one that’s lightweight.
The TTC in the evening is a good place to write. Less crowded and more noise and people just want to get home. And more laughing. She says:
Ahhahahahh. That’s hilarious. A whole hour. One more hour.
Spending time in the park a week or two ago. And as I usually do spend a few hours underneath a tree reading and not being on the cell phone or laptop or any screen. The world is incommunicado.
Changing their temperament, the clouds darkened deep and a friendly constant breeze wandered around the grass and bushes and trees. And so I thought I could hold out and not leave. Dark clouds are quite interesting. You’re experiencing nature and its exciting to be there so I didn’t leave awaiting the next. The next arrived ceremoniously with a loud vibrating entrance. More like a boom and a crash. If the clouds didn’t mind you, then the boom and crash holds your attention. The excitement level increased quite a bit. Still I stayed and just looked up wondering if any of those lighting crashes were meant for the tree above. It was a large overgrown tree with long extended branches and leaves on the ends like the legs of a millipede. Remember the feeling of aliveness as a witness this event rather than inside looking out of a window ever so often. And so I wanted for the next. Again.
The next arrive slowly. One and then another and another and then all together randomly and faster, light at first, but then heavy globs in rapid-fire sequence. Rain. Dark clouds didn’t nudge me, ominous wind didn’t move me, thunder strikes held me firm in my place, but rain got me moving. Gathering the folding chair and tote to head for the car, the rain came down much much faster and harder. Reaching the VW Golf and lifting the hatchback to semi-organize the folded chair and tote bag I knew I was wet. Not drenched, but just enough to feel moist through clothing. Could see and feel the water rolling down my forearms.
Seated in the driver’s seat I waited and simply looked out through the glass windows. The steering wheel returned the stare. Straight ahead to see the grass and large bushes obscuring any view. The windshield holding up against the barrage. Almost like airborne solders dropping in from the sky and crashing into the ground. They fall and crash and explode on the windshield and roll downward to a ditch. New solders fall again and again. Don’t you know your fate solder? Follow orders solder. Die, die, die!!
To the left, the parking spot next to me. All these slots empty. Little water-works all around. More solders crashing to the ground and upon each other. There’s a pool forming.
The thunderstorm was just beginning. A curtain of rain surrounded the park as I drove out. That rain curtain continued well after I arrived home.
Saturday. Cloudy and rainy. Awoke after midday and bored.
Drove. Whippers left right left. Listening to Boards of Canada‘s Trans Canada Highway album. Left Side Drive track. Quite chilly with the A/C on first of five settings especially with an gloomy afternoon. Gloom is good. Red brake lights refract through the water beads on the windshield. Space constellations.
Stopped at Starbucks after a thirty minute aimless drive. Two foot flooding in the parking lot. Grande White Mocha with Whipped Cream. Hot please. Oh, you like my Starfucker t-shirt. No, I haven’t gone to their concert. Here, scan the barcode on my phone. Beep. Receipt? Nope. Thanks.
Desire to be alone but in public. Park at meter and wait and stare towards the beach. No one is nearby save for a few wet weather joggers and walkers. With current conditions being the opposite of typical, now is the time to experience something mildly uncommon. More people should be here.
The hot White Mocha wasn’t as sweet as expected. Sweet not throughout. Just at the bottom. The kind of sweetness that needs swirling. New hires or trainees possibly. Hope they improve.
One would expect these sounds. Water constantly slapping itself. Static copy cat. Under a small hut shelter it is easy to spend long stretches in silence absorbed by the sound and closeness to the end of land. Like a cliff or the edge of the world, if it were flat. These days are reflective.
The sand and saltwater have a special smell. Distinctive. Why isn’t this a design house or celebrity parfum already? The pier not far. Another fragrance entirely of fish guts.
Cold and rainy and tranquil. This is the way the beach was meant to be enjoyed.