Even in the early hours of morning, there is life on the streets. I'm in Toronto this week for meetings and had a chance to take a walk this morning in some of the old haunts I once called home. During the days of my seminary training, these were the places where friends would gather for social time, or to rush off to another class.
Many laughs were shared, and stories told while we sampled the many various cuisines which are readily found within these blocks of downtown. Some of the teachers who formed us are still living in the area, and I found myself thinking about them today too, with a thankful heart.
Even though the sun had only just come over the horizon, and therefore was not visible thanks to the myriad highrises that dot the downtown core, there is a constant din of traffic as taxis mingle with other vehicles, all competing for the same space on the same rather narrow streets. Combine that with the bicyclists and the pedestrians who no doubt will become more voluminous as the day goes on, and the result is what some would call the heartbeat of the city ... while others would run screaming for the nearest place of quiet.
There are signs of true beauty to be found too. In some parts of the country one would be convinced that we are still in the depths of winter, and yet flower boxes and planters of all varieties are in full bloom here, a sure sign of spring and the new life it brings.
This is the place where life teams and yet souls seem to be lost in the throng of life that surrounds them, but then again that's what many people come here for - to get lost in the crowd. Even the newly installed security cameras which dot the major intersections, signs of concern for individuals' safety, don't seem to deter the automatons who move blindly through the city. Yet each of these faceless ones is a person with dreams and hopes, with family and friends, with a life to be lived.
Here we are at the intersection of anonymity and the quest for identity ... in these parts, that's life on the street.
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