On Saturday, Fresh and I took Ice Prince to Riverdale Farm – a small working farm in the middle of Toronto. They have barns with horses and cows and goats and pigs and chickens. And a donkey. IP: “Hey donkey, I like your house! Mommy, the donkey’s not talking to me!” It’s free, so it’s a great thing to do with a kid.
We usually walk just past the duck pond to the meeting house. On Saturday, we went down a set of steps behind the meeting house and down a steep set of wooden stairs. Then we went under a stone bridge and suddenly there as a gorgeous hidden waterfall clattering down a cliff face. Another turn, and there was a smaller waterfall. Ahead, we found a silent and still pond iced with green algae and saw wood ducks with red heads perched on the wet black logs, further ahead – a tiny stone bridge and another pond, with a turtle sitting on a log and a muskat. It was so quiet and beautiful and such a surprise.
On the way home, we were walking through Cabbagetown past the Victorian townhouses. The day was grey with bits of sun streaming through the clouds. Suddenly, a huge gust of wind blew up and an enormous amount of fat yellow leaves rained down on us like confetti. It was one of the most magical things that’s happened to me in a long time.
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