LETTER FORTY-SEVEN

3 April 2017
Toronto, Ontario

My Darling,

Because a conversation wouldn't be a conversation without ridiculous claims, I would like to ask: is it possible that April is the best month? Yes or no, it has many qualities to recommend itself.

It's been cloudy all day, but totally comfortable outside, without the discomfort of wearing long sleeves you get in July. There's a general air of hope and expectation: semesters are drawing to a close; the long trudge of winter is behind us; and the weather will only get better.

Compare this to July, which in my opinion, has the distinct disadvantage of having a feeling of impending loss. The heat and leisure can be difficult to fully enjoy, when the cold wind of autumn is at the door. Now, on the other hand, less than two weeks before Easter, every day is infused with the expectation of more pleasure to come; an expectation I hope to savour slowly over the next couple months.

Earlier today I was biking. The rain began to sputter, and I found shelter in a parking garage near Princess Margaret Hospital, off McCaul. Parking garages, I think, must be some of the best places to find shelter from spring to fall, and even in winter. They're the kind of places where customers are indistinguishable from vagrants, and where there is little incentive for the owners or the attendants to commit to the blanket of surveillance common in other private spaces. Once, nearly a decade ago now, I and a friend spent a night wandering through Montreal, killing time until his train's departure the next morning. Eventually it got too cold to stay outside, so we snuck (well, walked) into a underground parking garage, went down a level or two where it was heated, found a sofa in the corner of the garage (!) with chairs and a table, and spent the night drinking brandy and smoking in warmth and privacy. A handful of times since I've spent huddled in parking garages, but none so memorable as that.

When the sputtering subsided, I went down to the grange and got some food. I traded comments with the owners of the Thai food place I've been frequenting for ten months now; the first words we've exchanged other "the special, please", and "that's fine, I'll stick with the egg noodles, then." I asked how the end of the semester at OCAD would effect them. They told me, the students have lots of energy, and eat three meals a day, so it was going to be a lot slower for them after they stopped coming by in the summer.

For some, the summer lacks the hustle and bustle of Fall-through-Spring that makes living in a city like Toronto appealing. I certainly found that to be true on Bay St last summer. It seemed like from Canada Day to Simcoe Day, everyone was out of town lounging by a lake or golfing on the links.

But for now, at any rate, everyone's still in the city, and even though many of us want to get out--including me--this might be Toronto at its best: Busy with work, but with the reward of travel and leisure in a not-too-distant future.

After eating, I left for the library, where I am now, and decided to write to you, being that the weather is so fine, and the future more promising than it's looked in a while. 

Yours,
Sal