Rainbow Room by Massimo Capra

Crowne Plaza Fallsview Hotel ~ Niagara Falls, ON

He rather enjoyed the stillness of the restaurant in between the stages of an evening. It was as if the space were taking a deep breath, allowing each member of the staff a chance to regroup before the next wave of personalities poured into the room.

During this downtime, he would become lost in the art of table setting, taking special care to arrange the polished silverware in perfect form on each table as if each one were the only one he had to do. He artfully folded every napkin and repositioned each chair. He carefully set each wine and water glass so as to avoid any evidence of his touch prior to it being cradled by the dinner guest at that seating.

It was a peaceful time, set to the muted soundtrack of plates being clattered against one another in the kitchen and the quiet murmurs of the head waiter reviewing special instructions with the executive chef. He deftly went about his business becoming one with the pesto and ginger infused air, just like water swirls undetected around the pearls of an opened oyster. Every now and again, he would glance at the familiar landscape outside the expanse of windows. With that awareness, he appreciated how much more divine this setting was compared to the busy street scene that vibrated loudly outside the windows of his last place of employment. There, he felt common and invisible and frenzied. Here, he felt smart and important and effective.

He was also acutely aware of the rich peacefulness that flowed softly around the curved room. Soon, dinner guests would arrive, injecting the air with character and energy, bringing it to effervescent life, buzzing with activity and discussion. He breathed deeply knowing that as each cluster of people spread out around the restaurant's distinctive iron framework, his focus would adapt accordingly. He would derive energy from this pulse, preparing him to provide service with clarity and professionalism, adding his own unique flair to the exquisite flavours he would soon be delivering.

Shot during the Tiger-Cat - Eskimo game, September 15, 2012

Okay, here we go, nice and easy here, just hold the bottle up and wait for someone to notice it.

That's right people, I'm the sustenance guy, attentive and nimble. I am the king of replenishment, the wizard of wet, the master of the liquid and all things refreshing...

Look no further you monstrous, shrinkwrapped animals, and never mind about the coach - I'm the guy you need. Me. I'm the one cradling the large plastic vessel of Gatorade perfection over here. Or wait, is it water? I hope they aren't too particular because I don't feel like being the cheese in an Eskimo sandwich today...

Wow those guys are tall! S'okay... no big deal... I'm supposed to be here. I just keep walking around slowly and never mind about the hundreds of people watching me. Besides, they aren't watching me, they are watching impatiently as they wait for the game to resume. Maybe they are thinking if I hurry up and give them a drink, it will resume sooner.

Hey there big guy, you want a little sip of this? Poured especially for you, nice and refreshing. It will help you play better. Not that you need help, man, you're doing great, I'm just sayin. Hey, you do your job and I'll do mine okay??

At Solla Sollew, or rather St. John's Conservation Area on September 8, 2012.

I was sitting on my favourite bench with a notebook just listening to the breeze as it curled around the branches and tickled all the leaves. The air was so comfortable it was without temperature and I was so relaxed I was without concern. I didn't even wonder if there was anything crawling up my back or hovering over my head or preparing to bite at the skin on my ankles.

As I watched my boys scope out the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo.. er, St. John's Pond, I revelled in the joy of watching them become blissfully immersed in their endeavour: to capture a bullfrog. My oldest was stealthily carrying a brand new net - not a meagre dollar store attempt, but a serious metal handled net from Canadian Tire. He meant business. But the frogs weren't at all impressed - they didn't even show up in greeting.

After four methodical, focused treks around the pond combing through every foliage overhang in every nook, he hadn't seen one frog. It must be the time of year, I consoled, as he reluctantly placed the jilted net beside me. Still not ready to return to reality, his attention turned to creatures of the flying variety, which are always faithfully available in nature's lush playground.

The Names of the South Pool

World Trade Center Site - October 2011

September 11th.

I was looking at the date on my phone at work this morning thinking about how this is no longer just a day of the month... a 24-hour instance that occurs at the beginning of autumn...

It's something different now. And I bet there isn't a person alive that doesn't notice it.

When terrorists attacked 11 years ago, they didn't just end lives and rip apart families and shatter our sense of security and demolish buildings and rape New York's proud skyline.

They took a day of the year.

The World Trade Center site is something different too. I didn't get to see it before it was forever changed. But just as it was a majestic destination worthy of a visit in the eclectic and vibrant borough of Manhattan before, so it is today.

Along a Segment of the Magnificent Mile in Chicago

I can see why Twitter gets more activity than other forms of social media because a short burst of information is all that many people can stand to absorb these days. Or perhaps I should say afford to look at because really: how much of it are we actually absorbing?! It's like a virtual neon-blazing commercial hub with a contant stream of pretty colours vying for your attention.

I am new to the Twittersphere, having long been resistant to adding a new link to my communication network for fear I would become even more attached to my screen at night. Do I really want to have more ideas to weave into what I already understand? Become teased with more events and cities that I want to visit but probably won't have time to go?

But I'm discovering that it's a whole different length of chain - a way to connect to people with whom you wouldn't share your familiar details and photographs (such as I do on Facebook) or a rambling and musing of experiences and impressions (such as you see here on my blog).

Twitter gives me a way to say something what is on my mind and get right to the point. I love restructuring my comment to fit the countdown of characters under my post. I can also reach out to an unimaginable sea of minds that I wouldn't otherwise get to reach and potentially strike a chord with someone I admire in a field that interests me.

One thing that surprised me is the multitude of users who use the brevity of Twitter posts to lead readers to another, more larger collection of ideas: a link to another site. Does this illustrate a brilliant use of Twitter to grab people with a headline and seduce you to follow them so they can tell you more? Or is this proof that people really can't say what they need to say in 140 well assembled characters?

I do find myself posting links to draw those unfamiliar with my blog to check out my view of the world, but I like the idea of saying something that may appeal to others like me in a brief moment of introspection. Something to make people smile. Something to make people take a different route home from work or give their child an extra long hug when greeting him or her after work. Something I've noticed that I think others should notice too. And in turn, I may find the same in others' posts!

View of the 2012 CNE from the Kiddie Ferris Wheel

I love a good roller coaster as much as the next person - or more than, depending on the person - but I never turn down the opportunity to ride the ferris wheel. What some people perceive as a slow and predictable yawn is, to me, an effortless opportunity to see the world from a different angle. I was glad when my son pulled my arm in that direction!

On the surface of the CNE grounds, you can feel the pulse and smell the sugar as you drink in such details as hand painted muskoka chairs and a charmingly simple sixty year old fountain named for a queen's visit.

We got to sample the latest toys and refill our bottles at a water station for free and witness a frenzy of eleven piglets all nursing at once.

But to rise above everything and watch the cluster of people turn into ribbons of colour flowing around tent tops added another layer to the experience. The view was fabulous and the nature of a ferris wheel affords the rider ample time to shoot in every direction, and even downwards, if so inclined. It was neat to see such frivolous multihued fanfare on one side and serious monochromatic skyscrapers on the other. But that's Toronto!