the cobbled streets of hackney are sorely missed at the moment. sometimes at dusk I think of sitting on wilton way sipping smoky tea. of meeting friends on the sagging settee at the creperie. the traditional wander to broadway market to rest amidst the market stalls, talking with hackney folk as they strut by in all their splendor.
these nova scotian streets aren't the same. folk here travel to and fro at their canadian pace, that is still unfamiliar to me. sidewalks are bare. roads are filled with tooting trucks. though there is the comfort of coming home to mabel. making festive decorations. sitting with cc and his pa. those two gentlemen who fill dark nova scotian days with happy moments. those two are my constant who make things feel alright.