Down by the riverside
I’ve never been big on birthdays. Except my 18th, but that came at an important moment in my social life. My own interpretation is that we only have one “birth day”, so get on with things. Here in Quebec, the translation is perhaps more appropriate: anniversaire, as in “the anniversary of”. This city is on its way to a big one, the 400th, and finally we’re starting to see some signs of an impending party. An expensive one, but what else is tax money for?
This afternoon, given that I had a ride home in something other than a city transit bus, I used the opportunity to play tourist. We were headed home along the Champlain Boulevard, which used to have oil tanks and cargo docks as a screen between thee and the river. All gone! Disappeared! Instead, we now have $70 million worth (I hope) of waterside paths and other assorted attractions. Les Promenades Samuel de Champlain are actually progressing well, given the lack of snow and ice. I probably won’t get down there any more often then before, but it’s all in the thought.
The local press has been having a field day with their “art critic” role, finding every chink in the sculpture by Pierre Bourgault that is almost ready for the public eye. The photos in the newspaper had us believe that we had received a work of art that resembled an abandoned construction trailer. The photos lied; it actually is much more aesthetic than I’d imagined.
Along the shore, the grass has been landscaped into something that brings to mind a river rippled by heavy winds. Somebody is going to be less than polite when it comes time to mow the area next summer; for now, it is an interesting study in what man can do to parkland, given enough of a budget.
Lest we forget, there’s half a bridge to nowhere in place; I will have to find out what happened there. Did the architect have to go to supper? I’ll make a mental reservation now to go next summer and look for myself. After all, why settle for mental reservations about a project that I’m paying for with all the extra money I’ve given to the various levels of government.
There’s still months to go before the deadline, and I’m sure the hundreds of workers will be done in time (although the fellow smoothing soil with a big mechanical shovel instead of a handrake may have lost sight of the big picture). The river bank will be much improved over its historical days as a place to store lumber, and those who have the time to go out walking will now have another place to spend those hazy summer days. Somehow, I doubt my dog will be a welcomed companion.
