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03/31/2006: "Jane Station Southerly"
music: well, you just laughed it off, it was all okay
A lonely, weird, yet illuminating walk, perhaps more accurately described as just 'okay'.
I headed out to Jane Station (one of those magical stations where assuming one is travelling westbound, one only need to line themselves up at the orange dot on their departure platform to be lined right up at the escalator), where I was the only assured walker (sure, yes, I know, call me a risk-taker if you will, a rebel if you must). I was hoping to greet other walkers, but alas, after waiting 15 minutes no one showed up. Armed with only(1) an mp3 player full of songs I'd never heard(2), I took to the streets. After a few false starts (a failed attempt at crossing Bloor not at the lights, and then ending up in a dead-end parking lot), I found my way into the fancy suburbs just south of the station.
Wandering only on the roads, in this land of no sidewalks (except for an odd private sidewalk made of patio stones, but curbside, connecting just two houses together), I found my way to a wide dead-end street. This rare street is the type only a lucky few Torontonians get to live on - so underused, that kids can leave a hockey net on the road all the time, and nail a basketball net that faces the street to a wooden hydro pole.
I could see houses high up. Hilly areas are my favorite, and when I lived in India, a game I used to play with myself was to try to get to the highest point in sight, trekking through tea and coffee plantations all the while.
Luckily, the dead-end applied only to cars, and a staircase brought me to the high point in the area. I walked along admiring the beautiful houses, all seemingly made of large cut stones. As the neighbourhood income levels dropped, sidewalks started to appear. I followed them along, noting to myself how restricted I felt as a solo walker - nearby was the Humber river and a wonderful forest, a place I would have easily felt comfortable going had I been with a group.
I crossed big highways and made it to the all too familiar bridge and two tall condo towers that I had seen so many times before from a distance. I removed my headphones to enjoy the sounds of the water lightly crashing into the shores, and the odd bird calling out, but mainly I heard the drone of the highway, which wasn't necessarily all that unpleasant. I walked across the bridge, and along the path to Sheldon's Lookout at the base of the Humber river. There were lights, and in the moment, with no one else around, I appreciated that they were always on, even if it was only ever me who was coming to use the point (though I'm sure someone else was at the point within minutes after I left).
I continued along the waterfront, and even though there's a relatively narrow strip between the water and the new condos that now line it, I appreciated the way monuments, trails, benches and stones continually acknowledged the shoreline as I walked it - and it made me wonder about the changes that would happen to our waterfront if the huge money and development that's always being talked about ever gets off the ground.
I passed several new low-rise condos, with pangs of envy at their structures being so stable and together compared to my old house in the east end that's forever falling apart. As the life and light in the area died down, I made my way north through what looked like a quaint inn, but I ending up emerging through a dodgy motel to catch the Queen streetcar in the opposite direction of home(3).
(1) oh okay, I had some money, TTC tickets, debit card, drivers license and organ donation card
(2) well, yeah, I'd heard them a few times before, but they still weren't recognizable
(3) yes, yes, I took the street in the direction to my home, but I would've taken the streetcar in the opposite direction, had it come first. C'mon! people, a little liberty for romance please!
