Since I don’t have a camera I’ll take the photo with my fingers, fast as a shutter, long exposure blurred by the movement and the changing of the light. People walk back and forth between me and the dancing branches, which dance between me and the reddening sky, between me and the twinkling stars, the circling dancing setting world spinning round me as I try to keep still, so as not to blur the photograph.

“I could go to a bar in Toronto anytime, I’m going to the beach”…
and I had no argument, yes, to the beach.
The sun was setting as we arrived. Descending maybe thousands of steps, surrounded by fragrance and towering trees, deeply cut gorge leading down to the sand, the sunset sky of red and fire cut by mountains peeked through the trunks and branches.
We reached the beach and felt the cold Pacific, I grabbed sand and forced it into my palms, under my fingernails, and wet the cuffs of my sleeves.
In the distance the gulf islands stole my imagination, truth like fairytales, colours like painting, sounds like meditation. The sky changed and the peaks breathed, in a dance of competing beauty, the horizon mediated diplomatically and fairly, understanding the fragility of the ego letting each have it’s moment.

She walks in, and as the door closes behind her look natural and catch it before it clicks.
People look at us so we talk louder, we point and comment and look the part. Have your story ready, we’re here on work, we belong here, we are powerful.
The tall ceilings and old small-paned windows are classic and intimate, the space is full of energy and particleboard. The pipes must never be removed. Touch this place and it will recoil, take it away from them and it will never be the same.

Caught up in the crowd, the air of collective breath tickling my ears, fists pumping, crowd jumping, united by sound and song. Caught up in a moment bigger than the short time it takes, we burn a collective memory, a memory of a time and a place that was special, enviable, delicate and passionate. We’ll spend forever trying to relive it, and we’ll grow old retelling it again and again.