Today we walked in the sweltering heat through a gorgeous part of Toronto to see where many people have slept and where some still are sleeping.
As Fred poetically commented: "Nestled between railway tracks and the Don river, Riverdale's backwoods are very Huckleberry Finn in appearance and feel. The dirt trails add to this charm. It is so dreamlike to see this rural enclave in the midst of an urban metropolis. Still, it seems very fitting in its place because of the scattered fire pits, broken fences and old rusty bridges with random graffiti."
Grasses and flowers were pollinating and we could see that the air was heavy with them. We walked under a bridge where there is a large concentration of pigeons and along with that comes the inevitable waste and feathers and mold... the health conditions are worrisome.
Everyone in the group has varying ability levels and energy that has to be accounted for. One member is recovering from being ill, another I worry may not have had enough to eat, and with the heat today I want to make sure everyone stays hydrated.
As we walk along we take pictures and talk about what is going on. One man says to me that he thinks he was made for being homeless. He used to run down to hang out with the hobos when he was 10 or 11. He'd hitch down to see them and spend time with them. His mother wouldn't notice his absence.
At times it is just a hum of conversation. We walk in pairs and triplets down trails, sometimes breaking off to look into an area that seems interesting. I spot a blackbird - or first I hear her and then see her above me in the trees. I repeat myself to Fred: "The light is beautiful!" And it is - it's one of those days where the sun streams through and the green on the trees is hardly worn. We stop for our break to eat sandwiches with mayonnaise and butter and meat and cheese (some of us!) and grapes and green peppers. And drink bottles of water. There is renewed energy and much discussion of the good food.
A pond is covered in the small seed pods that some trees are shedding. We stop to look at a duck and her ducklings. Going back up the hill we are in the shade of large, old trees and it is easy to see why these kinds of spots in nature would be desirable. There is quiet and no drug dealing neighbours. A pitched tent or a built lean-to is all that is really needed.
James reminds me of the weight of water and how on a hot day like this he can easily go through half of his week's supply. And doing dishes, staying clean - well, there are many other problems when you are living in the bush without secure access to clean, running water.
