27 August 2023 – This title springboards off my comment on Bluebrightly’s In Town post, which moved me to observe: “Not too sure about God, but magic is certainly in the detail.” A recent walk has me looping around my end of False Creek one more time; as usual, I wander to and fro via alleys and, also as usual, I am diverted by what I see.

This time, by the magic of looking beyond each big view, into a detail.

Big view of one of my favourite hydro H-frames, for example — the one so dripping in greenery I think it must employ its own Master Gardener.

Having walked through the arch, I look back and up, and spy the detail…

the potted plant on that window ledge. (Geranium? Not sure. Literally, a detail too far.)

One alley over, still en route False Creek, I enjoy the long view of successive Mural Festival additions to the scenery…

and then fall over laughing at the detail punctuating the north end of the strip.

Gogglesaurus!

I stand there giggling & pointing; the driver lowers his window, also giggling. I compliment him on the gratuitous silliness of the ornament; he regretfully declines credit, explaining the van belongs to his shift supervisor. “She has her own sense of humour, all right…”

Different alley genre now, as I draw closer to False Creek, namely the manicured walkways between pricey condo buildings. Whether built by corporate free choice or coerced by government, I don’t care: they add peace, green space, variety and human scale to the area, while typically at least nodding to heritage.

The walkway leading west from Quebec to Pullman Porter Street, for e.g., with its tribute to the area’s railway work yards history in the form of tracks, old metal wheels, loco motifs and this handcart. (Anybody else remember Buster Keaton, railway buff, and his 1964 silent film for the NFB , The Railroader?)

Again, it’s a detail that fascinates me. Moving parts, visible to the eye, tangible evidence of how the work is done.

Another condo-alley-pathway, this one as I head toward home after my visit to False Creek. Trees, shrubs, giant recliner chairs and, along one side, the playground for children living in the First Avenue Athletes Village Housing Co-op — a reminder that some of the housing around here is not-for-profit.

Having looked ahead toward 2nd Avenue, I now look down at my feet. And see the medallions that dot the pathway, another quiet reminder of heritage, this time of the area’s shipyard history. (Later online search tells me that at one point in WWI, the J. Couglan & Sons Shipyard here on False Creek was the largest in the British Empire.)

I tread lightly, I think I do.

Farther south, farther east, and back to grubbier, non-corporate alleys.

Piles of used tires as I close in on Quebec Street, north of 6th Avenue…

alley-iconic, in a comfy sort of way.

I step in for a closer look at the coils of barbed wire atop the fencing…

and the comfort factor drops sharply. The rust on those barbs makes them all the more vicious.

One H-frame to start this post, another to finish. This is my other favourite in the category, one you have seen before…

the one that spins electric power through an alley intersection with a deft 45-degree pivot.

No Master Gardener here! Naked wooden geometry.

No potted plant, either. Instead, the upward view vibrates with the energy of all that geometry, reflected.

Slightly giddy, I walk on home.