My friend Brian posts photographs of his walk to work on Facebook. He always manages to find something compelling to look at. Maybe that’s because his walk takes him through a neighbourhood where people are always doing something strange or interesting; maybe it’s because he’s a filmmaker and has a keen visual sense. Both are probably true.
I’ve been meaning to walk to work with a camera this week and see what images I could capture. Early this week it was overcast and raining–not great weather for photography–but today was bright and sunny and cold. Really cold, although it’s going to get a lot colder very quickly. Last week it was 30 degrees here; this morning it was minus 1 with a fierce northwest wind that makes it feel even more frigid. It’s the kind of weather that demands wool hats and gloves, and I didn’t think to bring along either.
My walk takes me through Wascana Park, and despite the weather–or maybe because of it–there were quite a few people out walking, too. It was strange to see so many people out for a walk on a Friday morning, but maybe they’re government employees who work flex time and get Fridays off. I don’t know. My camera battery was dying so I wasn’t able to get many pictures, and the ones I did take aren’t like Brian’s. But I’m not a filmmaker the way Brian is, and Wascana Park is perhaps not as inspiring as a neighbourhood because it’s so empty. Usually when I walk through the park I spend my time thinking instead of taking in the scenery. It’s an interior journey, not an exterior one. And that’s okay. I’ve been walking this route for years, and on the rare occasions that there’s something surprising and new to see, I’d like to think that I manage to apprehend it, like the injured snow goose I saw last September, or the Baltimore oriole I saw this past summer. I could be wrong, of course. Maybe I should keep paying attention even on a routine walk I’ve made hundreds of times before. That’s something to think about on my walk home.
