Most of my life I have been an early riser. There was a time when I would regularly get up at 5 am, and begin my day. Often with a walk. Now, its not uncommon for me to lay about until 8 am, or even later. At some point in time, little by little, (almost imperceptibly) I grew lazy.
Twice in the last two days I have had dreams with my father in them. The second one was as I laid in bed yesterday morning, drifting in and out of sleep. When I awoke their was a heavy melancholy all round me, and in me. So I got up, and stumbled about the apartment for a bit. Finally, I ventured outside, collected the cats, and went for a walk. At the Old Power Dam I cheered up, and was fine the rest of the day.
Three nights ago on my way home from work, even though I was tired and had a restless feeling, I forced myself to explore. Not a lot, just a little. Next door to my company is a small marsh, and some Poplar and Sumac. Then next to them is a trucking company that unloads the tankers. I like this small marsh. I also like the old rusted fence around it. I took a few pictures, and admired how the pink and white clover made it look like the countryside.
When I reached the North Plaza, I took a photo of a sign advertising $15 dollar haircuts, which struck me as pretty darn cheap. For some time, at the corner of Brittania and Queen, the old Macs Milk store has been under renovation. Their were signs that said it would be a coffee shop. But when I walked by, those signs were now gone, and the building was for lease again. I cannot guess what it will become now, though I hope it sells old records, and beer. A few doors down from it, I stopped again, this time to take a photo of a sign advertising the psychic. I actually saw her for the first time recently, sitting out front of the house where she works from. I smiled at her and nodded, and when she smiled back, all my thoughts seemed to drain from my head, and I was cast into a spiritual vortex. Not really, but it would have been fascinating if I had been.
I crossed over Queen Street and made my way along William Street, which has a few of the oldest houses in Streetsville. One of them is owned by our local Councilman, whose name is George. Its a real architectural beauty, that I never get bored of taking pictures of. Georges son came out and asked me what I was up to. I answered that I was taking pictures of his house. Which I realized afterwards may have sounded a bit cavalier. A little further on I took a photo of an old garage, that sits near the corner of Ontario and William. It is not an especially attractive garage, but I like its plainness. Once upon a time it was entirely covered in Ivy, that they chopped down, and which then withered and died. But I never understood why they cut it down. It looked magnificent, in my opinion.
It is not an especially attractive garage, but I like its plainness.