This is Toronto. 70 year old buildings next to 20 year old buildings and everything covered in snow. It's nice; I like the blend of the old and the new - it would be prettier if it was a little older and a little newer, but it doesn't matter. Everything is prettier when the snow gets dumped on it.
Until, that is . . .
It turns to motherfuckin' slush. Look at the sorry state of this footpath. The City of Toronto's a fucking beast in terms of which footpaths get cleared and which don't. The footpaths around my office, for example, on the quietest (and most expensive) side streets, are shovelled religiously, despite the car traffic the pedestrians have to brave being nothing more than a few Beamers and Benzes purring gently around. The Don Bridge, over which harried commuters speed (and drivers in Toronto, while not as insane as in other cities, are remarkably shit), has a footpath whose maintenance you see here.
Fuck you, City of Toronto. Moving on.
This is also a picture of the Don Bridge. Again you can see the cables barring the footpath from the void; this used to be Suicide Central. It still has suicide hotline numbers posted at each end next to phone boxes, although it would now take a great deal of doing to throw yourself off. Now, I've never been really tempted to throw myself off a bridge (although on frigid days I sometimes wonder if, in the event of me peeing off the side, it would freeze before it hit the ground - you've thought about it too, admit it) but I imagine that the graffiti scrawled on to the concrete in the background would put me off from doing it here. It lacks a certain gravitas.