14 March 2017 – The sky is exceedingly grey, & the air oozes moisture. The trees are grey-brown-black, sombre camouflage for a sombre day.
Only the moss stands out.
How happy it is! I stop thinking about the air, the mist, & focus on the moss.
I am besotted. I lurch along 13th Avenue, East 13th morphing to West as I go, following the moss, tree to tree. Admiring the branches’ furry sleeves, stretching out from the trunk …
Admiring swirls of colour, texture, pattern …
moving in close …
then refreshing my eye with the restraint of this narrow trunk, just one tree farther down the line.
Then a big guy, big fat trunk.
I step in to enjoy the sheen of the day’s moisture upon the bark …
which brings me close enough to see how the buds are just starting to swell.
Another block, and I start to laugh. No need to get close.
Nature’s very own Wretched Excess, flaunting herself out there in front of God & everybody, totally shameless.
I’m attracting attention; people turn, try to see what fascinates me so. They can’t find anything. Small dismissive shakes of the head, & they walk on.
Oh, but look …
is this not totally loopy-delightful?
I move even closer to the trunk, crane my neck backwards …
study the black & white of fern silhouette against bare branches & sky.
On westward, another tree, and I’m laughing again.
Visions of a mad orchestra conductor, resplendent in green velvet, raising his arms for the downbeat. “Our tempo,” he intones, “is 30.”
Out to Cambie Street & north to 12th. Time for some visual contrast.
No furry-fuzzy textures here.
Just the strong, clean lines of Vancouver City Hall — built & opened in 1936, a make-work & civic-pride project that tempered the architectural exuberance of 1920s Art Deco with the sobriety of 1930s Moderne. The only colour all those flags, and the neon-circled clock.
I giggle again, thinking of the old joke: “What’s black & white & read [red] all over?” A joke that only works when spoken. Because then you can triumphantly reference the other spelling, and contradict either correct answer.
(I debate not giving you the answers. I relent. Answer # 1: “A newspaper.” Answer #2: “A blushing zebra.”)
