I have been meaning to start up a blog for my own edification for years, now. I think this is a perfect place to start. A good forum for practicing writing, archiving interests, photographs, music, gaming, memes, moments, places, meals, anything. This should have happened a long time ago. Without further ado…
Today I was wandering around near Main St. and the Danforth, with the intent of exploring new neighbourhoods to find new photos for my major thesis project. I doubt I actually gathered anything of worth, image-wise, but it was a lot of enforced walking and thinking. It was supposedly warmer than it has been lately, but it seemed frigidly cold to me. Furthermore, true to form, it started snowing the second I stepped out the door. I was worried about my precious new camera and my (possibly) even more precious face.
After being out for an hour or so, I had had just about enough, so I did my best to find my way to the subway. I walked diagonally across a grocery store parking lot, then waited at a stoplight, one such in a place where they do not actually expect pedestrians. Dozens of puzzled drivers passed before they light actually changed. Pressing my hands to my frozen face and shrugging deeper into my coat, I scurried north, to a railroad underpass. I noticed a worn footpath leading up from the sidewalk, perpendicular to the road.
After a moment of indecision, I was on the path, in hot pursuit of… well, nothing, probably. But this is the sort of thing that I love. No matter the format, “oh, what’s over here?” has always been a favourite mindset of mine. So, what was over there? Not much. A few tags on some CN signs, an interesting vantage point for a driving range and an old subdivision. Some ski tracks and dog tracks. But in walking along the path, an informal, hidden artery, my understanding of the area seemed to unfold. Something about knowing a secret route, that the people in the distant neighbourhood used to get to the mall at Victoria Park and the Danforth was remarkably satisfying. Possibly some echo of my childhood spent running around in the woods.
Not a particularly monumental start, but a start nonetheless.