Messengers Of Love

One year ago today I posted for the first time on this blog. Back then I only had a murky idea as to what it would be about, and in what style I wanted it to be in. Since then, it has evolved in ways I never anticipated, while also retaining its simplicity. I was inspired to start it through watching a documentary called The World Before Your Feet, which is about a young man named Matt Green, who walks the streets of New York City, and writes about his experiences. I decided I wanted to do in a small town, what he has done in a big city. Since then I have emailed him on two occasions, and he has sent me back brief, but encouraging responses. (Thank you Matt!) Well, I cannot think of a better way to celebrate my silly little anniversary, then with another post. So…

Yesterday morning I carried my bicycle downstairs, put my helmet on, and rode to the place where I work to hand in some forms. It was my day off, and I was looking forward to exploring the town afterwards. On my way there I discovered that Queen Street was blocked on the North end, because of a train. I watched and waited for it to cross, which took about ten minutes. In the meantime I filmed a short video, partly because I love trains, and partly because I love the sound that the warning bells make.

I love the sound that the warning bells make.

When I was done at work, I rode back in the direction I had come, and turned right at Brittania Road. I then cut through Dolphin Public School (which is such an obscure name for a school, in my opinion), but found it under construction. This forced me to ride down a steep hill. Now, riding down a steep hill on a bike when you are 12 years old, can be an exhilarating experience. When you are 57 years old it can be tense. But by applying all my brakes, and with faith in the law of averages, I made it.

I came out at Rutledge Road, where I stopped to take photos of some Peonies out front of a house where my brother used to live. Their is a kind woman who lives there now, that I sometimes stop and chat with. (Though not in a long time.) In the ditch their were also some Buttercups growing, which are messengers of love. I took a photo of them as well, because of how pretty they looked.

Buttercups. Messengers of love.

When I reached Ontario Street I stopped again, but this time to take a photo of the railway tracks; which I have done quite possibly a hundred times. Certainly many, many times. I then turned right on to William Street, and rode in the direction of the Central Plaza. Nearby were two elderly Chinese who were playing badminton. I smiled and gave them a thumbs up. Behind the plaza I stopped to look around a little, and take photos. I discovered a raggedy looking shrub growing up out of the concrete, next to a loading area. It was a profound thing.

I took a photo of the railway tracks, which I have done quite possibly a hundred times.

Behind Central Plaza.
Behind Central Plaza

I discovered a raggedy looking shrub growing up out of the concrete next to a loading area.

From there I rode over to Tannery, then turned right on Broadway Street. I wanted to fill up my bike tires with air, so I stopped at the Bicycle Shop. But it was closed. So I continued on and parked my bike at the coffee shop, where I locked it up. I bought a coffee, and carried it across the street where I sat down on some steps and drank it, while watching people walk their dogs. I then rode down Mill Street, where I met an old friend named Gus. He suggested that I should come to church. I told him that I probably will. He said that my mother used to pray the rosary for me, which I didn’t know. After I left him, I then rode over to the cemetery, where I watered the flowers at my mother and fathers gravesite.

I then rode over to the cemetery.

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