|"Field of Dreams" from our balcony|
Sarah and I have lived in our current apartment for nearly 7 years, having moved here in October of 2005. There are days when it has its challenges from noise and other bad behaviour but the one thing we will never grow tired of is the view from here. We are 20 storeys up over Stan Wadlow Park and the only tall building around for a couple of kilometres, so we can see Lake Ontario and all the way across to Niagara Falls - on a clear day we can see the Skylon from our balcony.
|Full-moon at dusk with the ballpark already under lights|
|The "floating" ballpark from a slightly longer-range perspective|
The lights are still on now as I write this post and I can see them from my window. And the moment I tapped the period key for that previous sentence, *poof*, the field was plunged into darkness for the night. I feel, inexplicably, an almost palpable sense of loss each time those lights go off, as if another day has passed into history, never to be seen again. There's a real sense of finality to the turning off of the lights and I find myself sitting here wishing for them to come back on, if only for a few minutes.
A second diamond in the park has been given new, extremely bright lights this summer and I don't care for it. Rather than doubling the pleasure of the "Field of Dreams", I find they detract from the overall mood of the tableau that we view from our home. Thankfully the new lights are turned off a long time before the original set and we are given back the beauty that I first fell in love with.
|Stan Wadlow Park in full daylight|
I almost expect the ghosts of ballplayers past to come up out of the wooded valley some night and start to play. It wouldn't surprise me at all.