A stupidly beautiful walk in Mill Creek this morning. Took the train downtown, and then made my way through a very colourful Louise McKinney Park to the holiest of holies, Mill Creek Ravine. As per usual, I’ve taken some time off to enjoy this part of spring. The lush part. Everything is blooming, including the pink apple trees, the lilacs, and even the dandelions. The air is a living thing, full of flowery fragrances and poplar fuzz, especially now that we’ve had a few days of solid rain. Unfortunately, I was overdressed. Should’ve worn shorts and a tank. It’s just 20, but the few clouds scattered here and there weren’t enough to shield the sun’s heat. I boiled in my black capris and t-shirt.
My favourite little bridge is closed for repairs. If I’m in the area, I always feel like I should cross it, like some kind of superstition. Or maybe a form of OCD, but the mildest sort. It doesn’t really matter if I don’t, but this particular bridge represents everything I love about Mill Creek. I’ve stood many times on it’s creaky wooden boards, listening to the water rushing, and sometimes trickling, over the rocks. It’s very meditative. Hope it reopens soon.
It’s odd. I feel like I’m betraying Maggie when I walk in the woods without her. Just Mill Creek, of course. I’d never go dogless in Whitemud. Nevertheless, walking on these trails feels like being home.