One night in the summer I was at the Harborfront Centre in Toronto for the Island Soul Festival they were holding where a kompa zouk band was playing. While I didn’t do much dancing, I was with friends who danced the night away and we met up with their family, then walked along Lakeshore a condo where they were meeting with friends. It was one of those go-with-the-flow nights where you didn’t have anything to do the day afterwards so you were up for wandering in the evening.
We ended up on the roof overlooking the city and I stood in quiet awe of the bustling below, feeling like I was million miles away from it. The buzz of weekend summer evening crowds in Toronto was overwhelming for me, so this was the perfect place for me to catch my breath and revel in what good surrounded me at the time.
The next morning I woke up slowly, the sun just starting to rise with my gratitude. The smell of flowers filled up the kitchen, brought in a few days earlier and the combination of flowers and freshly brewed coffee made my heart swoon.
It was the kind of lazy morning where you forego the gym in favor of sleeping in, curling up in the sheets and savoring every sip of that first cup of coffee. Going for brunch later, the sights and sounds of Toronto provided a group of us with a feast for the senses.
Thankfully the neighborhood wasn’t busy yet and the sun’s rays, though strong, weren’t bringing about any humidity. Finding a restaurant tucked away behind greenery in the shade, coffee in hand from Jinks I settled in while soaking in the gorgeous morning stretching out in front of me.
After eating, we wandered up the street and checked out a few small shops, giving into curiosity’s tendency to wander through new places yet seen.
While I was busy basking in the sunlight, walking back from brunch in the afternoon and the gratitude I was feeling for the company, I almost passed by this heart nestled up against the fence around a garden in Roncesvalles in Toronto.
The heart here wasn’t one brought about as a sign during some trouble, but born from the ease and flow available in the present moment of a really great day. There is something to be said for seeing those little heart-shaped gifts during the good days too because they’re not just there to help you get through the rough ones.
The hearts have become the one constant through both the good and bad days so long as I’m willing to find them.
Here’s to days long on sunshine and short on hours in which to soak it all in before the sun sets, ushering in Monday, once again.