This morning I went for a walk through the paths in and around Toronto’s Evergreen Brickworks. I debated bringing my camera but I ended up leaving it at home. There will be no spectacular photos in this post. I turned my phone ringer on silent and cell data off. I didn’t check my phone.
It was just me, my friend and other occasional humans, dogs, birds and squirrels. I marvelled at what nature creates and how nature adapts within manmade structures. I listened to dogs bark, silly squirrel sounds and stories from my companion. I felt the mud and leaves squish and rustle under my feet, petted dogs, and run my hands along the roughness of tree bark.
We walked up to the lookout. I took in the moment. The beauty of a wall of trees, painted warm shades or red, yellow and orange next to the cold grey of downtown buildings. I sat silently watching my friend looking out at the city, tempted to pull out my phone and capture his silhouette against the skyline. I let my phone remain in my pocket. This was my moment. I didn’t need to tweet about it, I didn’t need to Facebook or Instagram a photo, I didn’t need anything to distract me, to take me away from it. All I needed to do was just be – silent, looking at trees, fully present in the space of that moment.