Two days ago I received a phone call from a young boy who said that he had seen Charo the cat going into a backyard in the Kenninghall area. So I went over there and brought him home. He still refuses to answer any of my questions though.
I set out this morning for a photo walk. I remembered that I had not visited the Mullet Creek Waterway in some time, which used to be a haven for the graffiti artists. I wanted to see if it still was. But first I stopped in at the Trinity Anglican to listen to the worshipers singing. They sounded very nice.
To get where I was going I would need to use the Railway Tracks. I would be walking directly through what was once my comfort spot. The place where I liked to be alone. (Which back in those days was most of the time.) The track that veered off to the right had been lifted and removed, and some of the trees cut down. But one of the Poplars was still there and seemed to greet me with the sound of its fluttering leaves. I stroked it, and apologized for my long absence. The number of birds there was astounding. The noise they made reminded me of the church people I had heard singing.
Before I even reached the Waterway I felt the old comfort returning. The suns warmth was embracing, and I could see the days of youth in my mind. And I felt them, too. I walked down into the Waterway, and looked about me. An old bicycle was laying there and I took a photo of it.
The graffiti artists had maintained the place. The walls were covered in spraypaint. It was like being at a museum. Then just when I was preparing to leave, lo and behold who should turn up but the artists themselves! They came with chairs, and rollers and paints. They said hello, and I spoke with their leader John. I told him that I had once tagged here, but a long time ago. Catching graffiti artists at work is like capturing a ghost on film. They are normally quite elusive. So I was rather pleased that I had infiltrated their fraternity. They may have been less pleased though.
I finally left and returned by way of the old Canada Brick lands. Their was once a pond there, with Mullet Creek running through it. But now their is only Mullet Creek. I wonder whether the large turtles are still around? I found a spot to lay down, and spent time sunbathing and watching a hawk circling above me. Eventually, I crossed over the tracks again, and made my way along Queen Street.
I mentioned that North Town is less pleasant looking or historical compared to South Town. There is at least one house boarded up, and others sit empty. I decided to take another gad about, and sneaked into the backyards by pretending to be officious. I took lots more photos, including one of a very tall Walnut Tree that looked pretty with the sun shining through it.
I was now tired from all my exploring, and so slowly walked in the direction of home. I stopped only to take a photo of 85 Queen Street South, which now serves as offices for a big name realtor, but was once the home of an elderly couple. The husband gave me a license plate from 1928. Or did I steal it? I honestly can’t recall.
NOTE: This is now my 50th Blog Post! I want to thank everyone who has been reading my nonsense thus far, and for all your comments. Now, lets see what other things about Streetsville need to be uncovered 🙂