I left the house before sunrise this morning. The quietness, the fog and the fact that there was no one around made me pause and take a picture from my front step.
As I was reaching into my bag for the camera, a woman passed with her dog on her way to the park. My neighbour came out of his house with his wife and started his car. (Pardon the possessive pronoun there, he is of that age where it applies, which is funny ’cause she works but he doesn’t.)
I kept the camera out and walked to the streetcar stop. The street was empty. It was just starting to brighten up a little in the East. So I took another photograph.
It was so peaceful and quiet. Almost as if I were in a quiet village in the countryside. Then I got on the streetcar. There were about 5 people on the streetcar. One of whom was very very drunk. And 19 years old. Trying to get home. He also needed to talk to everyone and was desperate for a cigarette. He was harmless. He spent most of the trip (when he wasn’t lurching precariously up and down the aisle) sitting in the front seat carrying on a monologue with the driver. I was very surprised when we got to University, when the streetcar driver carefully gave him directions to the subway. He repeated himself often to make certain that the guy wouldn’t get lost.
This is a lovely city.
