CN and Me: A Tale of Two (?) Reflections

                                                                                                                                          © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

I couldn't resist posting this untouched image of four different views of downtown Toronto. For tourists who journey to our vast country, either from their own exotic country or from a different corner of the same vast country) the CN Tower is a coveted view that simply must be securely packaged up inside their travelling camera. I suppose, however, that for those tourists who have become locals (like me) who choose to vigorously and enthusastically retain their tourist-like status of awe in their day to day excusions (like me!), the goal exceeds that of simply acquiring its likeness. We strive instead to compose an image of individuality, something that's a little different from the predictable postcard, something that allows one to examine the mighty tower from a different angle, or capturing something that perhaps makes one wonder where in the city that particular perspective would be viewable.... so how about it... any guesses??

Ottawa's Rideau Canal in February of 2009

                                                                                                                                                    © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

I decide against renting a pair of skates and instead give myself permission to enjoy the frozen Rideau Canal flatfooted. I am just content to be present in this invigorating city during their celebration of winter, drinking in the wondrous expanse of crystal clear blue and white, inhaling air so strikingly fresh that it speared at the inside of my nose upon greeting me this morning, a feeling that used to be routinely aggravating but that now makes me smile as I remember my Northern childhood. I close my eyes for a few moments, discerning the sound of refined steel blades slicing happily into the ice, gliding smoothly over its surface while leaving behind etchings of swirls and signatures.

In the summer, this is a fluid trail for canoes and ducks, as joggers and cyclists trace its banks in great numbers on welcoming manicured trails. But now, it has become the trail, providing an alternate route for those who wish to literally venture off the beaten path. Why not take advantage of something different, something that is accessible for only a few months of the year?

Ottawa's inhabitants vigorously embrace their outdoors, not only enjoying physical activity outdoors, but resting there as well, setting up huts and creating edible wares that waft their delectable smells to the masses, beckoning skaters to come take a break! After a long satisfying stroll, I succumb to the temptation and I buy myself a cup filled to the brim with one of the greatest concoctions known to winter: a steaming marriage of molten chocolate and earthy coffee. I scan the borderless cafe in search of an available chair, which is not immediately evident amidst so many enthusiastic Canadians. Finally, I locate a place to sit and be. I wrap my fingers around the piping hot receptacle and savour the rich flavours it is holding for me. I breathe deeply and revel in the feeling of spending my afternoon among so many like-minded beings, outdoors in the winter sunshine, my soft blue gloves waiting patiently for me on the carved wooden cafe table.

Along the beach at Conception Bay South, Newfoundland

I captured this one years ago, around the time that I started regularly wielding a single lens reflex and behaving like a wide-eyed eight year old kid in a frog-filled marsh. Nothing was (is!) pedestrian to me. I was enthralled with the abundance of little discoveries to capture on, at that time, film. Never mind functioning before the digital groove - I never limited myself when I was out with my camera, and shot whatever I knew I would enjoy viewing later!

It is always frigid at the beach in the winter, but on those rare days when the wind is sedated, you can sufficiently insulate yourself in a portable shelter of parkas and wool, enabling you to spend some quality time with the invigorating chilled air.

Having performed the above-mentioned layering ritual, I was enjoying the afternoon shooting ice glazed beach rocks, charismatic vanilla frosted wooden fences, and sugar-coated tree branches stretching out into the cerulean sky.

I didn't spy the critter that left behind this flurried evidence, nor did I attempt to coerce it into view; I simply kneeled down and took this picture. My favourite aspect of this image is not the tracks, however, it is the sparkle of the individual snow crystals, perched ever so delicately atop the more mature snow that had now fused into ground cover. It reminds me of quiet winter evenings growing up at home in Labrador, listening to the falling snowflakes, and reveling in the pure, glistening environment that instilled in me my love of all things winter.

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

Broadway Avenue! Manhattan

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

She saunters along Wall Street and then Broadway, apparently aimlessly, a pink and black shopping bag dangling from her right hand. One would suppose that she does have an eventual destination but is evidently uninterested in increasing her pace at this time. Blissfully unaware of the hoards of Manhattanites darting alongside the strands of traffic, she methodically places one stiletto before the other, her head slanted to one side, her left arm extended towards an stately, rugged fence that has been following her. She traces the bold but intricate pattern with a long, manicured finger, sliding it slowly along the ridges of black iron, caressing its rugged texture, at once smooth and etched. She continues to follow this massive collection of metal shafts and arches, allowing it to guide her along the sidewalk as her attention remains inward, her thoughts collaborating. She lingers in this fashion until her finger is feeling only the air, and she is snapped to attention upon reaching the end of the structure. She grasps the satin straps of her bag and quickens her pace, as if suddenly realising she has somewhere appealing to go and is now intent on arriving.

Stratford, Ontario in December

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

As we descend upon our placid aqueous avenue, we hear you complaining about the gelid wind as it brazenly slaps your cheeks and taunts your down-filled garmets into which you are desperately cocooned until the soft breath of springtime. Even on an afternoon such as this, refreshingly infused with invigorating air calmly hovering over a blanket of virgin snow, you are bothered.

We're not entirely sure that we understand this aversion to winter. Is this not the season that welcomes holiday camaraderie, lavish generosity, and lush displays of evergreens and holly? Is there something wrong with decelerated evenings spent surrounded by layers of quilted coverings and a like-minded individual?

Surely, there must be a few examples of your species who will unabashedly embrace this season for its exhilerating temperament and appreciate all of its bracing qualities. As a matter of fact, we see them, occasionally, meandering along the snow-crusted banks of our world, eagerly capturing photographs and exploring the nuances of our city as the evening rolls in. 

As for us, we revel in the changing of the seasons. Today, we're content to be flying over a pristine, uncluttered view enroute to our happy place, where we will congregate with some of our favourite winged creatures, as we do every evening.