Make Your Own Paris

I got in this argument with my mother in February: We live in Toronto. Toronto is a city that does one particular thing very well. It is great at delivering a liminal feeling. There are vast open spaces in the Northern part. Sometimes, you’ll be waiting for the bus on a cold spring day (no bus shelter! Wind Central!). There will be some geese nearby, nipping at the anaemic grass. And you’ll look up into the big clear sky. And you’ll look down – no people on the street as far as the eye can see. Wow. Wide open. Sure, there are people in the handful of cars on the road, or inside those middle-of-nowhere office buildings that are becoming economically unviable. But you’re all alone. And you get that feeling of “nothing is going on here”. Sometimes I get that feeling when I’m in Toronto’s wonderful ravine system. The city is criscrossed with streams that flow in semi-wild ravines. This setup does double duty as natural sanctuary and flood control system. You’d listen to the burbling…