March 26, 2012

Obscurer Photos of our travels – so the people not on ‘social networks’ can see

Filed under: Uncategorized — oversion @ 4:23 am

Toronto Niagara Falls Port Dover Port Burwell, many ports, (most of which seem to have their own version of pt pelee / Long Point) and Windsor’s cultural mecca, Phog Lounge


Swimming in Niagara falls and Port Dover, and in a sense in always underwater Windsor, qua Plastic Windsor and the Father Head show at Phog


Spectacles in constant joyful contrasts to the official reality of the world, in the midst of all else going on

It might be only the second full week off I’ve taken in the 2000s, though that only for reason of getting such great value out of a few days off here a few days off there. But with Joanne and I all set up with a full week off and midMarch become midsummer in some kind of strange dream like surprise ie the wise scanning of out of season hotel rates meets global warming with a holodeck week off work for both of us.

An atemporal, ahistorical zoom into southwestern ontario

Even the wildlife was friendly. Sparrows followed us in light swarms along the streets as we walked. Om. In Wine Country we pulled over to try to photograph a huge frantically decorated hawk in a tree with 4 starlings and it just stayed. After decades of fleetingly photographing hawks, this one did not care, up in its tree in front of a seemingly abandoned house on one of the secondary roads, ah, to have a poem called that. The hawk of the secondary roads.

The shocking hawk photos will become their own post, surely with the story of the probably 3000 lesser hawk photos over the years, this hawk just glancing at us as upon all else, just overhead.

And yet less surprising than this wonderful cloud greeting that appeared in the sky when we arrived to our hotel balcony.

Which was reflected in the behaviour of the cat in port dover. I shouldn’t gloss every last thing, if to become quite so personal with the obviously psychic cloud photo over the old casino and ferris wheel in Niagara. Magnetic, cosmic, fascinating.

But is it any more incredible than the beach in Port Dover? Brilliant sunshine, people in the Lake Erie, dogs racing through the water after balls, March 20s so strange. A deep bucolic late July or prime of August depths Sunday, on a Wednesday in March

We were sitting on the iron girter holding the soiled land up from the beach sand when Joanne heard an animal charging toward us, down 4000 flights of grass across a rise, rushing to us from a house down the road. Immediately rubbing and playing between us then hailing up battle, sitting with us, and hailing up battle again, huge claws, but a tag “Rascal”

After the lucky timing greyhound day – so incredible, one of the smoothest greyhound journeys ever, and imagine how difficult that is, and i arrive in toronto and streetcar it all the way, king to bathurst no problem, then every 15 minutes a double street car too full to open the doors, 5 hours on greyhound, inside the greyhound world, all good, but I get to Bathurst, practically my own Street, and they’ve got the service set to every 15 minutes as everyone comes out of the Marlie game and off the beach front, fuc ng idi tsthat run this city down, crowded end to end when I finally can get on along with all the people from my bus stop, all jammed, commands coming down to move to the back, packed, all the way to the back, a tiny bit of room near some very angry people, enough for one uncomfortable person barely hanging to a post, 6 people doubled all down the aisle to that point, and this guy says “Sir, if you could just move down,” then asides to his friend “Irrational people.” The angry folk steeringly scream back at the front abut the lack of room and how insulting it all is. The guy behind us 14 jammed standing all listen for another comment from the ‘irrational people’ guy. We hit queen, dundas, finally get past college, and the numbered stop “276?” what is 276 that it has a stop? I shouldn’t have taken this route. And the guy starts teaching the concept of empathy to those nearer to him. Teh ability to understand what someone else is feeling. Let’s just hope. What am I a full back with 7 day backpack on my shoulders after 5 hours in greyhound going to plow through two abreast standing tired irritated aisle standers not to the mention the stressed people jammed in their rob ford jim flahery streetcar seats, indeed insulting.

Certainly back in Toronto now! But so much else to note:



  1. only about 270 photos and movie modes to go

    Comment by oversion — March 26, 2012 @ 4:25 am

  2. Pictures marvelous even by your exacting standards. There is a poem for sure in the crowded streetcar after your hours on the bus and the ripple of empathy teaching touching lightly on your tired head and those squashed in around you. Actually that is the poem you have written. When you got to the hawk in the tree in front of the ‘seemingly abandoned house’ it reminded me of the student peering in our front door yesterday afternoon with ‘seemingly abandoned’ clearly her question. The vine looks so dead in winter, grey and lifeless. Yet the buds are coming now, fluffing it, causing it to stand out yet another spring, away from the brick, like fresh-dried hair from the head. Which reminds me did you see that great Bizarro St Patrick’s day cartoon last week about the unfortunate first date between St Pat (in full regalia) and Medusa. She is bald, dead snakes scattered about on the floor, sobbing while St Pat looking deeply guilty is saying, ‘sorry.’ Genius at work yet again amongst the cartoonists! So glad the two of you got out into the miracle weather. Long may we remember this glorious March. Not glorious enough, of course, for me to have raked despite all the green poppy shoots showing among the brown Magnolia leaves with which I covered them in January. Or the tulips further up, now almost full height. I Do Not Rake Till Victoria Day Weekend. Graven in stone. Thanks for all this online work. Rose

    Comment by Rose DeShaw — March 26, 2012 @ 10:20 am

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