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| Broadway Bridge
I am visiting the city of my youth, where I went to University and the city where my son was born. It looms large in my life though I haven't lived here for almost 20 years. I was so confident that it is practically infused in my bones, that although I asked for a map at the car rental place ( because I'd heard the city had changed alot) I felt that I could just be guided by feeling,no need to consult the map. Well the feeling took me straight from the airport to Beaver Creek. Only those of you in the know will understand the lunacy of that travel - completely not where the city is. I almost couldn't stop laughing at my mistake. Most of today I was convinced that I had lost my license and would not be able to rent a car. The only thought that I had was that I wouldn't be able to go to Beaver Creek and smell the wolf willow. Beaver Creek was a nature reserve that I frequented when I lived here. The thoughts of not being able to get there was very upsetting. Luckily I found my license - but my subconscious must have been very determined to take me to Beaver Creek and completely bypassed the city itself. I am convinced that there is a new bridge that wasn't here before - on the far west side. Otherwise I could not have made such a mistake.
Once I regained my bearings and actually drove into the city down Lorne Avenue and headed into downtown, I felt like I was getting off a plane in a tropical country where the humidity and heat hit you so fiercely that you can't breathe. Only this time it wasn't heat and humidity - it was the past. It was so thick I almost started crying. For some reason I have never felt the that time was linear. I have always felt that all time is happening all of the time. So for me looking around the city - I was still here, everyone was still here, doing what we were doing 20 years ago. I can't let go of that belief. So to be wandering around and seeing the changes it feels like someone is actually dying, that the world that I believe is happily going along actually is not. These ghosts are too painful.
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| Victoria bridge |
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| 5 corners |
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| Little Pink Lady
House where we moved when Kyr was 5 months old. The oldest house in Saskatoon still fiercely clinging to her Paul Cunningham paint job that gave her such respect and prominence.
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| Broadway theatre and Calories |
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| Amigos |
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| Corner of 10th and Broadway |
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| Buds Blues bar |
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| My first house where we lived when Kyr was born |
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| Me and my bridge |
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| My friend Gabriel Dumont who feels like I do.
I like to think that Gabriel is riding through town looking at the changes from when he frequented the place and feels as discombobulated as me.
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3 comments:
Lovely post. I too could weep at all your photos, especially of you and your bridge--how poignant, on so many levels, it speaks to me of our past, our childhood, our beginnings on this earth...and the pink house! So much love, sweat, tears and creativity went into restoring that tiny beauty. It's odd, I too feel comfort in thinking if Gabriel Dumont--Keeping an eye on the prairie for us.
The pictures made me want to see Saskatoon again although I think I would feel just like you do about the changes and would be searching for the past. The pink house looks the same which is comforting. I am looking forward to your next blog.
"The bridge and me" as seen from Saskatchewan Crescent East and Rotary Park, right? Victoria Street Bridge? Looks like that end was demolished between 2009 and 2014 and the road going from it filled in. Why?
Deep melancholy from that picture and the description. Lovely pictures of street scenes, houses and you. Keep blogging...
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