The birds. It was their hour as Connor and I took that brief stroll by the creek. Gold finches—a couple——settled on a perfect perch. Then a red-winged black bird soared along flaunting his colours. From a lamp post moved a predator bird, of a falcon breed, I guess, and he had in his clutches, a fresh kill of another bird. A second lamp post where he landed looked like his breakfast table. A layer of feathers lay there.
Okay, from Brampton, Kingsley drove us to Toronto for a wedding. Yura and Sashya are already legally locked in, but the Vedic ceremony was their wish yet to be fulfilled. That was this morning. Excellent! The date was set for "…when you’ll be around," said Yura to me some months ago.
Some meaningful meetings, I took part in, included plans for more and more weddings for the coming months.
Now, it was time to get out. My doctor, J.M., we'll call him, suggested some walking is good, but slow, not much, no strain. I took Connor to the spot where, in 1995, I decided to take my first cross-Canada walk. It was in a ravine just next to Mount Pleasant Cemetery, and a special feature for me at that cemetery is a natural piano-shaped tombstone where the Bach virtuoso, Glenn Gould, lies to this day.
The weather was great at 19 degrees Celsius. The whole world was out with optimism. The entire day from bird to Glenn got my high rating.
May the Source be with you!