Welcome to the swamp, don't touch the locals.
Back in town after my weekend at Long Point.
You have no idea where that is, and for very good reason.
It's pretty much nowhere. Nowhere, ie. Southern Ontario, ie. Lake Erie, ie. Small town=NOWHERE.
They have no parties, no bars, no guys under 40, not even a goddamn Tim Hortons, so really it might seem a little strange that I spent my weekend there.
The Explanation:
At the Royal Ontario Museum, at the back of the bird gallery, there is a small room built like a dock, which looks out onto a very nice wall.
The wall, of course, is painted. It's a perspective of these beautiful marshes, stretching out as far as you can see, with Canadian Geese and swans and reeds and it's the most exquistitely peaceful thing I've ever seen.
I used to go there with my aunt when I was a kid, then by myself for a long time, then in high school I started skipping class to hang out at the ROM with Alona.
One day we were sitting on the dock, and decided it was really a bit urban of us to be sitting on a dock in front of a wall in a museum, so we decided to see the real place.
Thus, Long Point.
The real thing did not dissapoint. It was unbelievably gorgeous. We walked out for 2km on a path through the marshland and we saw frogs, toads, snakes, butterflies, dragonflies, herons... it was so beautiful, and I wish I had more opportunity to see things like that.
I miss having my dog, when I was little and used to take her walking through High Park, and she's chase the geese.
We also went to a bird conservatory, which didn't make a great first impression.
And by that I mean...the first thing we saw when we walked in was a room full of kids dissecting dead cardinals.
ME: Hi. Um.
GUY AT BIRD CONSERVATORY: These kids are learning about taxidermy.
ME: Um.
GABC: ...it's important that we learn to conserve what's already dead.
ME: Um.
This exchange was made all the more amusing by the fact that the guy was an enormous teenage hippie who looked EXACTLY LIKE HAIRY BACK, ie. MARK. If you don't know who I'm talking about, or why this would be so funny, please read Aria's LJ, or meet my friend Sophie and ask her about a certain ex-boyfriend/Second Cup employee, and the reason why she broke up with him.
HA.
The next day we went back, and Hairy-Back #2...who's name unfortunately turned out to be Chris, redeemed himself by NOT shoving a dead bird in my face, and actually showing us how they band birds to keep track of migration patterns.
It was fascinating, and I also met another guy who works there who looks like an utterly adorable and less hairy hobbit, and more importantly was wearing a Coheed shirt! So, you know, we're best friends now.
Seriously, just how often do you come across a hardcore kid/ornithologist??
I love him.
At night Alona and I wandered around, trying to figure what the hell it is kids actually DO in Long Point.
We made it thoruhg most of the town in about 4 seconds, and finally realized that there are in fact, no kids. At all. NONE.
So we made our own fun.
With Scrabble.
For serious.
Now I'm back.
And sunburned.
OW.
It's turtlenecks for me this week at work, kids.
Cheers,
N.
You have no idea where that is, and for very good reason.
It's pretty much nowhere. Nowhere, ie. Southern Ontario, ie. Lake Erie, ie. Small town=NOWHERE.
They have no parties, no bars, no guys under 40, not even a goddamn Tim Hortons, so really it might seem a little strange that I spent my weekend there.
The Explanation:
At the Royal Ontario Museum, at the back of the bird gallery, there is a small room built like a dock, which looks out onto a very nice wall.
The wall, of course, is painted. It's a perspective of these beautiful marshes, stretching out as far as you can see, with Canadian Geese and swans and reeds and it's the most exquistitely peaceful thing I've ever seen.
I used to go there with my aunt when I was a kid, then by myself for a long time, then in high school I started skipping class to hang out at the ROM with Alona.
One day we were sitting on the dock, and decided it was really a bit urban of us to be sitting on a dock in front of a wall in a museum, so we decided to see the real place.
Thus, Long Point.
The real thing did not dissapoint. It was unbelievably gorgeous. We walked out for 2km on a path through the marshland and we saw frogs, toads, snakes, butterflies, dragonflies, herons... it was so beautiful, and I wish I had more opportunity to see things like that.
I miss having my dog, when I was little and used to take her walking through High Park, and she's chase the geese.
We also went to a bird conservatory, which didn't make a great first impression.
And by that I mean...the first thing we saw when we walked in was a room full of kids dissecting dead cardinals.
ME: Hi. Um.
GUY AT BIRD CONSERVATORY: These kids are learning about taxidermy.
ME: Um.
GABC: ...it's important that we learn to conserve what's already dead.
ME: Um.
This exchange was made all the more amusing by the fact that the guy was an enormous teenage hippie who looked EXACTLY LIKE HAIRY BACK, ie. MARK. If you don't know who I'm talking about, or why this would be so funny, please read Aria's LJ, or meet my friend Sophie and ask her about a certain ex-boyfriend/Second Cup employee, and the reason why she broke up with him.
HA.
The next day we went back, and Hairy-Back #2...who's name unfortunately turned out to be Chris, redeemed himself by NOT shoving a dead bird in my face, and actually showing us how they band birds to keep track of migration patterns.
It was fascinating, and I also met another guy who works there who looks like an utterly adorable and less hairy hobbit, and more importantly was wearing a Coheed shirt! So, you know, we're best friends now.
Seriously, just how often do you come across a hardcore kid/ornithologist??
I love him.
At night Alona and I wandered around, trying to figure what the hell it is kids actually DO in Long Point.
We made it thoruhg most of the town in about 4 seconds, and finally realized that there are in fact, no kids. At all. NONE.
So we made our own fun.
With Scrabble.
For serious.
Now I'm back.
And sunburned.
OW.
It's turtlenecks for me this week at work, kids.
Cheers,
N.