Buckets of raindrops bounce from my umbrella to the concrete below. Dodging puddles, I tiptoe across the sidewalk and asphalt surfaces, weaving around vehicle traffic to find my way home. The water washes away the winter blues yet ushers in its own depression. Seasons change and people too. Toronto is wonderful if you can tolerate it. Even so, it’s a nice day for a walk, where sights and sounds are unlike anything on a clear day. So unique. So different. It’s where I discover that a broken record soaking in the rain has as much in common with me than any eagle I’ve ever known. We’re both in despair, we’ve dealt with some shit, yet we’re running after something we don’t recognize. Perpetually hoping that somebody is coming to hear what we have to say. -dm
