Untitled
Hyla Levy
Then springtime arrived. At 6.43 am on Monday geese flew over the beaches to Leslie Spit. They shouted hello to anyone who’d listen.
In Citroën truck by the Gardiner museum, a man selling espressos, watched the crema rise and proudly cursed like a hipster pirate.
Over in Cabbagetown a toddler jumbled off a constrictive rain-boot, her first ever gesture of revolutionary independence.
As afternoon passed a swarm of teenagers emerged from Lawrence Park Collegiate, blinking into daylight; like pit ponies after a lifetime pulling trucks in Victorian collieries.
While on Queen Street West a cockapoo was given a kiddie sized cup of vanilla ice-cream by his pregnant owner, she absent-mindedly scratched his ears, waiting for birth to happen.
And somewhere, secret, in the city, Hyla saw that the shadows had sharpened and in that instant she made this picture.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Rachel Irving and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
