walking in sunshine

yesterday, i decided i wanted to go an adventure.

mom and YB are in the states, cross-border shopping for a few days, and i knew i'd have to go back to work on tuesday (tomorrow!), so i was itching to get out and use trix's camera to take some final autumnal photos before all the colour disappears and i'm at a desk in an office all day.

i'd narrowed down my sunday-adventure options to two possibilities: take the subway and bus out to the east pole to go to the scarborough bluffs and guildwood park, OR take the subway and the ferry and head over to the toronto islands.

both options involved doing something i'd never really done before (or, at least, not in a really really long time) -- i haven't been to bluffers park since i was a child and, likewise, my childhood visits to the toronto islands were always in summer and usually consisted of centreville, feeding the ducks and maybe a quick visit to the beach -- and both would get me out into nature.

the weather was spectacular -- sunny, breezy, crisp and mild -- so either destination would have been fine, but i ultimately opted for the islands. it would be easier to get to, transit-wise, and had the added appeal of the ferry ride. plus, probably, ducks.

so, i got up a little early (not hard, since it was fall-back sunday!), packed my knapsack with water, a granola bar and two cameras -- YB's canon rebel and my little point-and-shoot -- and then printed off a map of the islands. since it's now the off-season, the amusement park portion of the place is closed, and the main ferry no longer runs. so, it would be a short ride to ward's island, and then a loooooooong walk from one end of the island to the other.

riding on the subway to union station, i felt like a little kid. this was exciting and fun, and i couldn't wait to get off the ferry to explore. i imagined that the islands, which are lush with enormous trees and vegetation, would be stunning, and i kind of hoped not too many other people were having the same adventure-seeking idea.

after a pre-ferry pee (i didn't know whether any of the public restrooms on the islands were open in the off-season), i handed in my ticket and boarded the comparatively tiny ward's island ferry. during the summer, the city operates big, old, multi-level ferry boats to various docks but, at this time of year and due to the dramatic decrease in visitor traffic, it's just the one small boat. it's standing-room only on the deck, unless you go inside one of the two small interior rooms with benches. i stayed outside.

with a big toot of its horn, the ferry headed out. as mentioned, the weather was gorgeous, so many of us on board whipped out cameras and began snapping photos of the toronto skyline. the deck was full -- a few tourists, lots of families with kids, older couples and a slew of folks with bikes -- and there was a really lovely, cheerful energy in the air.

after about 10 minutes, the ferry pulled into its slip and everyone hopped off. i'd arrived! i was so excited to explore and wasn't sure how or where to start, so i took out my printed map, chose the perimeter (i.e., runs along the water) route and started walking.

the paths and sidewalks in the residential area were deserted, and some of the homes and cottages looked like they might have been closed up for the winter (though, residents DO live there all year 'round). many were what i'd call "rustic," looking like they belong up north in muskoka and not 10 minutes from downtown toronto. some houses were modern and fancy, but most were cute, colourful and quaint.

as i wandered the paths, i was kind of amazed at the distinct lack of people and of noise. i mean, i know it was a cool fall morning and folks were probably inside having breakfast or watching TV, but it was SO quiet and peaceful, with just the sound of lapping waves and the wind through the leaves in the trees. i immediately knew why so many people want to live there. [as an aside: it's not an easy task, though, since island residency is strictly regulated and the waiting list is long (you can read a bit about the fascinating process here).]

the route around the perimeter of the island was paved at first, and then became a wooden-plank boardwalk. since each plank was slightly different in width, my footfalls became oddly musical because each one was in a different pitch. once in a while i'd come upon other visitors sitting on benches and gazing at the water, or residents out for a stroll with friends, but most of the way i was alone with my thoughts and the sound of my steps.

eventually, the path wrapped around to the main centre island beach, with its long concrete pier and shuttered concession stands. walking around there, without anyone else around, was cool and a teensy bit creepy. looking down at the water from the pier, i couldn't believe how clear it was and how sandy the bottom appeared. i remember nothing but rocks and pebbles on the lake floor, so it was neat to see that, beyond the break wall, it was actually really pretty. (polluted, i'm sure, but pretty.)

i wandered towards centreville through the now-dormant gardens and now-drained fountains, snapping photos as i went. the colourful trees looked stunning against the clear blue sky, and seeing everything "asleep" for the winter was too good not to shoot. there were monarch butterflies flitting around and, every now and again, people on bikes would cruise past as they tooled around the paths. even though it was a windy day, the protected inlets and channels of the islands were dead still, creating almost-magical reflections. i took pictures of those, too.

making my way through centreville, the amusement-park section of the island, was like stepping onto a movie set… the set of a movie about some kind of eerie apocalypse where everyone on earth disappears but everything else remains intact and fine. i have never, ever been to centreville when it wasn't overrun with people, so meandering amidst the buildings and closed rides and being the only person there was really fabulous and somewhat freaky. there was a part of my brain that said, "you know, maybe this isn't the safest idea you've ever had -- you could be dragged off into the bushes or one of these buildings and no one would hear you." thankfully, i'd invariably spot a family or another woman or other wanderers whenever this thought crept into my head. still, i stayed in open areas.

btw, when i went past some of the food stations, i swear i could still smell the delicious aroma of fresh candy apples. no idea how or why -- maybe candy-apple ghosts?

the only place that boasted activity was the "far enough farm," since most -- if not all -- of the animals are housed there year-round. i could hear the goats bleating before i ever saw them, along with the quacking of the ducks and honking of the geese. there were sheep, horses, donkeys, pigs and all manner of avian life from chickens and turkeys to swans. as i took photos, i also kept an eye on the time -- the ferry doesn't run too often in off-season, and my walk across the island had taken an hour, so i wanted to be sure to begin the trek back early enough that i wouldn't wind up having to sprint to the finish to catch my ride back to the mainland.

when i started back, i decided to check the soles of my shoes. with all the ducks and geese and water fowl around, i was sure i probably stepped in a lot of poop of varying origin. yep, sure enough, when i turned my foot upward and looked at the bottom of my shoe, green and brown poop was embedded between every tread. i picked up a stick and carried it back with me -- i knew i'd pick all that crap out once i got to the dock. no way did i want that stuff coming home with me, so i didn't want to leave it stuck any longer than necessary.

i took a different route (along the interior) back to ward's island. along the way, i noticed a big swing set with two rubber-saddle type swings. there was no one around and i knew i had some time to spare, so i walked over, sat in a swing… and swung! i hadn't done that in decades and instantly i was a child again. i decided to try to snap a photo of myself swinging, and the results were some shots of my feet in mid-air and a couple of my shadow as it raced along the sandy ground. unfortunately, the act of photographing myself while in motion started to make me queasy, so i turned the camera off, slowed my swing and got off.

when i arrived back at the dock, i took out my stick and picked my shoes as clean as i could. i ate my granola bar and had some water, and then just watched people kind of trickle in. i took some pictures for a russian family who wanted to be photographed with the skyline in the background. there were far fewer waiting for the ride back, but it was only mid-afternoon. yet when the ferry from the city arrived, it was packed! a flood of people disembarked -- bikes, dogs and kids in tow -- to begin their adventures just as i was ending mine.

on the way back across the lake, i reflected on the day. as excited as i had been, when i started out in the morning there *was* a small part of me that was sad that i was doing this alone… that, like most activities i undertake, i was doing it by myself. but, even though that feeling did bubble to the surface a few times while i was on the island (taking photos of oneself when one is solo is always a creative challenge… but one i think i've mastered :-)), i thought about how great it felt to have had this day all to myself. the island was so empty that it felt like i had *that* to myself, too. and it was fun. and it was meditative. and it was soul-nourishing. it was creative. and it was something so totally, completely, wonderfully me. *this* is the kind of outing i love and, i realized, i love them because they are so very much uniquely mine.

and, finally, it was tiring! by the time i got off the ferry and started heading towards the subway, i could feel my 2 1/2 hours of walking in my legs and in my back. i was very glad to sit down, and pretty pooped, but delighted that my adventure had been so rewarding and awesome.