Open Writing

...I like to imagine the sky and the lake are knitted together in the horizon by the dark green scalloped seam of the Toronto islands, creating a background for a vast watery stage on which the theatre of life is acted out...

As Lytrice Adams admires her cityscape view she ponders on one of the possible challenges of aging.

I tend to associate sunlight with the countryside. With fresh air and blue skies, trees and forests, running water, chirping birds. Living in the heart of a large city as I do, I make my getaway as often as I can when the weather promises to be fine, especially during the summer time. However, taking off is not always practical. That's when I seek out green spaces in the vicinity - there are lots of them - parks with fountains and stately old trees, shady places where squirrels play in the shadows, and where swaths of yellow sunlight liven up the landscape.

The waterfront is always a good draw. Leaving the high-rises behind me, I can enjoy the sparkle of light on water, as I watch the geese and ducks dodge pleasure boats churning up the surface of the lake. True, I have to put up with the crass screaming of the gulls and their bold attempts to inspect my handbag; and among other less inspiring sounds, the loud droning of airplanes as they take off from the island airport, reminding me that I cannot escape the city. Still, I can fantasize. I like to imagine the sky and the lake are knitted together in the horizon by the dark green scalloped seam of the Toronto islands, creating a background for a vast watery stage on which the theatre of life is acted out.

But alas, the effect of global warming is limiting my enjoyment of these simple pleasures. The warm weather brings smog and difficult breathing. I find that I have to stay indoors a whole lot while the increasing heat bakes the sidewalks and breeds added pollution. Now that I am spending more time seeing the world from my sixteenth storey window, I am discovering a whole new cityscape that I have been too busy to notice before. On days when the air is clear, and the window cleaners have recently challenged the grime and soot that distort my view, I am able to appreciate the magical effect of the sunlight on that huge building that towers from across the street.

Unlike the ponderous concrete structures crowding the skyline, the exterior of this building is covered with panes of light blue glass, giving it a fluid texture that reflects the immediate environment. On bright clear days, it takes on a delicate crystal appearance, mirroring the clouds floating in the sky. The reflections of the surrounding buildings are convoluted into strange and eerie shapes, undergoing a sort of watery metamorphosis, as if they were submerged in the depths of a colossal pool. White-winged gulls, wheeling and diving in the air adds to the surreal effect. On breezy days, undulating flags add motion to the wavy jumble of lines and shapes, daring the onlooker to create a sense of order or definition from the scene.

But the sunsets are amazing. The glassy surface reflects the glowing hues, the oranges and golds and purples, blending them into varying shades of light and shadow, painting an ethereal curtain over the coloured glass. As the sun moves lower in the horizon, so the intensity and the designs vary, every moment a new offering, a new vista.

Sometimes, when the evening sky is clouded over, the filtered light washes over the gleaming surface leaving a silken translucence behind. The massive structure then takes on a different persona, a suggestion of gentleness, a vulnerability, an almost human quality. Finally, as darkness falls, and the city lights overpower the now fading display, the colours fold themselves away as if the presiding artist decides to pack it up until another day.

I must say this added awareness that I can find something beautiful and inspiring in unlooked-for places has given me a new perspective. As I grow older and lose some of the ability to transcend my surroundings at will, I realize there is some small measure of compensation for being stuck indoors. Maybe the challenge of aging is to keep the senses engaged, and simply enjoy whatever blessings nature has to offer.

© Lytrice Adams

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Lytrice writes for Bonzer! magzine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au