Stanley Park, a poem

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Five minutes walk from home; over 1000 acres of green space. Our backyard, basically.

The Lost Lagoon, a nature lover’s paradise.

Lonely herons wading in the shallows or standing camouflaged amongst the reeds. Canadian Geese, commanding ownership of the pathways, strategically positioned to protect their young. Ducks lurk in masses, congregating near the shore. I like the ones with mohawks, so unconsciously stylish. On a good day, ‘Derek’ will be there: our resident otter who loves to show off his daily catch. 

An absence of wind enables the city to reflect off the lagoon. Awe inspiring. Stock still. Picture perfect. A photograph sought after, for good reason.  

Through kilometres of trails, nature continues.

So many shades of green, which glow brightly when the sun casts its light. Even swamps seem to sparkle. Flowers poke up their buds, peeking at the world, contemplating whether to join us. Cherry blossoms – so numerous, I wonder why Japan’s the big deal. The oxygen content must be so high here, I’m sure I can smell it. 

A moment of silence reveals a whole new world.

Squirrels, frozen mid-stance, resume their scurrying. May the floof be with you. Did you know: we owe thanks to New York for its grey squirrel gift. Black and grey both, dart across the trail. Woodpeckers peck, there is a task to be had, and racoons amble, their cute tails distinguishing them from overgrown rats. And there’s not a person to be seen.

I like animals, can you tell?

But too, I’m grateful for the serenity, the silence, the tranquility. The big city life is mere minutes away, but at the moment it couldn’t feel further. The ocean calls, inviting a swim. Maybe tomorrow. It’s only spring here and already Stanley Park is my happy place.

What on earth will summer bring?

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