Toronto's loss may be greater Ontario's gain

Difficult to understand the municipal politics in Toronto right now, but it seems that the answer to the city's budget crisis is to shut down everyone not wielding a hockey stick.

My rather mercenary mind sees this as a benefit to communities such as Niagara-on-the-lake, Stratford, Huntsville, Collingwood or Burlington whose cultural tourism would benefit greatly from the proximity of Toronto's refugee artists, actors, photographers, musicians and all attendant professionals including the culinary specialists attuned to feeding creative types and their audiences.

For example. I envision BIFF not TIFF - the Burlington International Film Festival.

Think of the financial benefits to Burlington and its neighboring towns with facilities which could become world class creative platforms?

If I were in municipal politics in a well-placed Ontario town I would be out there wooing the Toronto disenfranchised. I would be calling upon all my area financiers and other stakeholders to put into place a cultural economic strategy that would place my town on the world map.

This just seems like a one-time opportunity to rebuild communities wrecked by the decline of the motor and other industries.

I say, "Why not step out of the box?"

Earthly retribution

The Rock Garden, RBG, 2011.
Copyright Heather Vallance

Yesterday’s storm bounced off the Escarpment and reached me at a speed I can only compare with that of a cheetah in full stride. I barely had time to hit the off button on the computer and retreat from my chair beside the window. Only weeks before, I had sat in that same chair during a dry windstorm which downed trees and stripped homes all the way to Fort Erie.

Yesterday’s news told of more wildfires and snow in Hawaii. Violent, unpredictable weather increases with each year, but we never fully accept why.

The Earth is angry, and who can blame her?

I often wonder if Earth showed up as a neighbor - a woman of a certain age named Gaia who entertained her biker friends to Sunday BBQs - if she would be as disrespected as she is as a concept.

Probably. In our world, women of a certain age are as disrespected as the Earth herself.

This is why Gaia has biker friends.

As her neighbor we would learn quickly. Throw garbage onto her front lawn and we’d get a visit, perhaps get roughed up a bit on Sunday as a distraction while the meat was cooking.

Drop an oil well in Gaia’s TV room or cut away a bit of her rockery for a better view of the city, and wham! The bikers would bring out the artillery, because they will do anything to protect the woman who feeds them, listens to their little ego stories, patches up their wounds. That’s what friendship is, and that is why you often see such mismatched people enjoying each other’s company.

If Gaia was a woman with biker friends we would understand the chain of consequences associated with bullying her because we feel superior.

In truth, Gaia is an insignificantly sized blue ball at the forgotten end of a galaxy arm which jostles for space among untold millions of other orbiting masses - putting a whole new meaning on the term cyber bullying.

And the Earth does have biker friends ...

LaSalle Park Burlington

Swans at LaSalle Marina.
Copyright Heather Vallance 2011.

LaSalle Park is about family. On a warm day the lawns are cluttered with tumbling children, wedding parties and dogs which make me think of Jacquie Lawson cards.

I dream of quietude, and for those like me there is a path which winds between the trees and down to the lake. There is a camaraderie among those who choose this path, who share the silent passing of strangers or the conversation of like minds.

A recent windstorm toppled several venerable guardians of the lake, creating new vantage points for the chipmunks who extract a levy in seeds from walkers. Not all trespassers pay the levy, leaving the chipmunks in a state of utter disbelief as they anxiously scurry to new positions on the trunks just in case they were unobserved.

The path curves down to the lake and follows the shoreline. This is the home of yet more chipmunks - and squirrels. The usually robust squirrels seem to be suffering from mange this year. Things breed in the excess damp, and we’ve had damp.

The shore is a combination of mottled green marsh and beach where waves lap against the shale on which ducks and gulls rest. The sound of the water is like enforced meditation. Walkers stop, not because they plan to, but because they have to.

The marina comes into view with its rows of boats and collection of people, but the path holds one final surprise. It does not stop at the marina. The path continues across the road, down an old pier line and into the bay. There is history here, and otters.

To go full circle and back to the car, walkers have to climb the hill to LaSalle Park, toward the wedding parties and splash pool, but even this journey holds one final secret - a memorial to an explorer who stood where once Lake Iroquois lapped, on land that was only a promise of the future.