A sprite invaded my mind and persuaded me to walk to the Crossroads Farmers Marketto fulfill my minor need to buy the cauliflower I forgot last Sunday. The sprite argued that this was one of the last warm days of summer, and furthermore that the distance was certainly no greater than the walks I do when hiking. Plus, the route was mainly along streets and paths.
The air was a delightful blend of freshness and promised warmth. I walked through the spreading trees of 2 Street, skirted the park on the escarpment, angled along Meredith Road, crossed Memorial Drive, and moved into the of the river pathway. The relative absence of potentially infectious fellow strollers and bikers allowed me to notice how the Bow bounced in its blueness, reflecting the happiest of prairie skies.
Crossing the George C King pedestrian bridge brought such city views as to stop my purposeful stride. My camera came out to capture the architects ideal of shining towers rising above trees and grasses, almost floating on the pebbly banks of the river. The pathway threaded around Fort Calgarys natural grassland and across a few streets into Inglewood. My eyes did a little window shopping
What in a car is a dull stretch was a fascinating distraction on foot. buildings from Calgarys early growth as a city have quietly found new purposes. The army surplus store sprawls beneath a genuine Nearby, Smithbuilt Hats touts its famous hats with an imposing model Stetson. Three craft breweries contend for customers. Art Point, almost invisible to vehicle traffic, boldly proclaims its presence to walkers, who can see through the wild bushes above the underpass. Small businesses occupy small premises, some still with picket fences and hedges, remnants of the time when workers lived near the rail and stock yards.
After crossing the railway tracks, the way is dull for a few blocks, making the approach to the market very Once there, mindful of my backpack capacity, I picked out one large cauliflower to buy. In the temptations set up by the vendor caused a jar of honey and a jar of strawberry jam to find their way into my purchases.
Thinking to have a straight walk home, I was immediately distracted by a sculpture in a fenced field at Inland Concrete. To
my imagination it seemed to pay tribute to the Chinese workers who built the railway, as the figures climbed up striated marble rock. Later, a Google search disabused this fine notion; it was an artwork discarded by a downtown highrise.
Choosing to cross the river on the Zoo Bridge gave my camera a graceful perspective of our downtown enclosed by green parks and blue rivers. Since the foot and pedal traffic on the river path had intensified, I crossed over Memorial Drive by the LRT station infrastructure and strolled through the renewed district of Bridgeland, a vigorous mixture of rehabilitated houses, convenient apartments and massive condos, all joined visually by grassed squares and conserved trees. Flagging after three hours of walking, I trudged up the escarpment to my familiar 2 Street route.
