I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain love I love the rain I love the rain I love the rain
love the rain
the rain
rain
rain
rain
%$#! rain
rain
5:45PM/14C
A perfect summer day. A perfect summer walk. I have nothing to add.
2:10 PM/22C
As I was shuffling through a pile of newspaper clippings this morning, I ran across a review of Latitude 53’s most recent exhibit, the National Portrait Gallery. Final day, July 17th. Today. Damn! Having sketched a few faces in my time, and being a fan of good, especially humourous portraiture, I didn’t wanna miss this one. Also, the show was inspired by Edmonton’s failed (ignored) bid to locate the actual National Portrait Gallery in our city, and I’m always interested in creative ‘fuck-you’s’, regardless of the medium.
Latitude 53 is located downtown on 106th street, so it was easy to include a visit as part of my walk. Started at Skunk Hollow, over to the Kinsmen, across the LRT bridge, and then up the stairs to Ezio Faraone Park. Managed to half-run, half-walk the stairs, with only some minor heaving. Nice to see the Legislature grounds have just as many people wandering about on a Saturday as during a weekday. Passed by several ice cream stands. Why don’t I bring change with me? Another creamsicle not eaten.
The gallery was empty except for the receptionist and me. Not a surprise. It’s the last day of the show, and there are mimes in Churchill Square.
The first thing I saw was Trevor Anderson’s documentary Absent Friends about the High Level Bridge. I thought it was terrific! Only a few minutes long, and filmed in a kind of grainy, wintry black & white, it conveys not only the strange history of the bridge, but also it’s reputation (well-deserved) as the premiere place to commit suicide in Edmonton. Funny, West Edmonton Mall has always struck me as the epicentre of despair in our city, but apparently the bridge holds that ‘honour.’ (I too have had a few troubling thoughts on the High Level Bridge at various times in the past, but I’ve decided to wait for the Rapture.) The gravity of Anderson’s short film is so over the top in places, I had to laugh. I think this might have been his intention, but who knows? The rest of the show was pretty interesting. I especially liked the painting by Anya Tonkonogy of Rich Trefry, and the unlikely needlepoint portraits by Megan Morman. Unfortunately, the show was teeny-tiny, and it would have been great to see more work. Glad I made it though…
After my little gallery sojourn, I continued my walk through downtown, passing by the very busy 104th Street Farmer’s Market, and then over to the Churchill Square where I watched a grimy looking clown chase a runaway balloon animal. A poodle, I think. Not sure if he was officially part of the Street Performer’s Festival. I’m guessing not.
Meandered my way through the crowds to Jasper Avenue, entering Louise McKinney Park a few blocks east of the Shaw Centre. As far as summer days are concerned, today was outstanding. A bit windy, but just windy enough to allow my skin to glow, rather than sweat. I was expecting another droughty summer, with crispy grass and a plague of grasshoppers, but the river valley is juicy with life, and a deep, deep emerald green. I guess I can stand a few more bad-hair days for the sake of some moisture in the soil. It’s the least I can do.
2:03 PM /19C
The unusual thing about today’s walk, other than I stayed dry for the entire length of it, was the sound of the creek. I could hear the rushing water from all points along the trail system, including the upper paths which are relatively far removed from the creek. One of the bridges I use most frequently stretches over a part of the creek which at this time of year, is normally just a dirty snail of water. Today it was a torrent, and the really cool thing is that under all the bridges, the grass along the banks was wet and flattened, meaning the water was even higher yesterday. If it hadn’t poured on my way home on Wednesday, I would have taken the longer route into Mill Creek and witnessed this myself.
The weather has dictated the length of my walks these last few days, but not today. Had a couple of appointments, and rather than go back and forth to work, I opted for a day off. Good choice, because I had nothing but sunshine. The ravine was quite humid and the paths still wet and even impassable in some places, but thanks to the little off-ramps along the way, I managed to stay relatively mud-free. And swear-free.
And now, an hour since I got back from my lovely and warm walk, and about a half hour until I would normally leave work and begin my walk, and I see that the sky has clouded over and there is a severe thunderstorm warning. HA! I say…HA! HA!
3:30 PM/21 C
Ah…sun. You’re back!
Couldn’t wait to get outside and walk. The trails by the University were impossibly thick and fragrant. The birds were singing, the bunnies hopping in and out of the flowers at the Legislature. What’s this? What’s that grey thing in the west? Damn.
About a half hour into my walk it started to rain. I’d taken the downtown route and was about to cross the street near the MacDonald Hotel. I had no gear, no umbrella (it broke yesterday), and no coat (it was supposed to be warm.) When it really started to pour, I fished around in my wet pockets for coins, but there was nothing but a moist post-it note reminder to pick up some pop. Decided to walk over the bus shelter anyway, but a few moments of the wet dog smell drove me back out into the rain. It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as yesterday, but I had such high hopes for the walk, and even higher hopes for my hair, but both were doomed to failure. By the time I made it up to the Old Timer’s Cabin, the rain had stopped and the sun was out. A fat slice of sunshine for my rain sandwich. I like the rain. In fact, I love it most times, but I’m tired of dripping. It’s undignified.
5:52 PM/23C
Sunrise~5:23 AM/Sunset~09:57 PM
As it turns out, it was possible to get wetter than wet, wet, wet. And wetter than a wet rat. So wet, in fact, a car raced around a corner in Garneau and sent a Perfect Storm-size wave of water surging toward me, and I didn’t even flinch. Still, what an A-hole.
5:23/14C (with bonus deluge)