Magical places, magical moments

There are certain places I've been to in my life, where I was suddenly struck with the feeling of magic. The place may not look extraordinary, but there was something special about it, a difference in the air, a shift in the order of things. It is a rare thing to come by, which makes me treasure these places all the more.

The very first place I can clearly remember is the trio of trees in the park behind my house. Once I was given permission to visit the park unattended, I used to head to the this trio of trees, whose branches were so knit together that it seemed like a secret hideout; one could barely be seen from the outside, and the air felt cooler. I spent many afternoons crouched on top of the dusty ground covered with dead pine needles, letting my imagination run wild. Sadly, this trio of trees has ceased to exist, after years of ice storms, wind storms, and overzealous grooming, and with it, a lot of the magic has also left.

Withrow Park. We went for a walk once evening after a particularly filling Summerlicious dinner, and accidentally stumbled upon the park. There were families on the play sets, local soccer teams having a friendly match, the grunts of tennis players, the yaps from the leash-free zone, and the downtown skyline could be seen from our place on the fields. The houses we walked by all had their own character; worn-down bungalows placed between modern grey houses, Victorian-style houses beside futuristic studios.

When I first moved out on my own, my friends came for a visit, and we headed to a nearby park and suddenly found ourselves walking by a cornfield. As we continued walking along it, we happened along a path by the creek, and a little further in, just off the beaten path, was a wood and twine swing hanging from the sturdy branch of a tree. This seemed to be just taken out of the books I read as a child, and I was stunned by the discovery of this hidden swing.

There is a spot in the Toronto Islands, where you can walk out to this unofficial pier, behind a fence that clearly is terrible at keeping people out, and look out at the skyline of Toronto before you, as you balance precariously on the narrow ledge filled with slippery seaweed and bountiful bird droppings. Seagulls squawk in front of you while you take in the view of the city across the lake, and the sun blazes down, but the panoramic view of the city is enough to make you forget the less-than-pleasant conditions of the pier.