Monday, March 12, 2007


Man I feel nostalgic, and I’m loving every second of it. It’s still jacket weather but it’s so warm and fresh, even in a stank-ass city like Toronto. Maybe it’s because I just emerged from a hyper medicate and vertical marathon, and my lungs are still burning as I suck in the cool breeze. It’s not like spring has arrived or the city has transformed itself, if anything it getting uglier, black snowdrift, an entire winters worth of garbage slowly being reveled. Branches that were too heavy with wet snow now litter the park by my house and wallow in noxious rivers of brackish runoff.

Yet despite this post apocalyptic appearance, Toronto is beautiful. People are cheery; the sun is high on the horizon. It’s almost patio weather, and before you know it I’m thinking about baseball. I wish I could run my hands over all the surfaces that have been hidden these many months. Park benches, tree bark, flower planters, feel the world that for so long was insulated by thick gloves and hostile snow.

Maybe it’s the Sudafed but I feel like I should skip work, grab a Globe and Mail and read in the sun.


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