The Day The Whale Came By
User Story
By Harley Reid
Edmonton, Alberta, is truly a magical place. I live on the ninth floor of an apartment building perched on the south bank of the mighty North Saskatchewan River. Down below, the river flows through the beautiful green valley of bridges. The stately Hotel Macdonald and Telus Tower guard the north bank.
High above, a lone eagle wheels in ever-widening circles as it patrols the clear, blue sky. Gulls squabble far below as they play. Sometimes giant white clouds wrap us in their gentle embrace, or we go one on one with a grumpy thunderstorm.
A solitary riverboat, its powerful paddlewheel churning the water, creates a white-capped wake tickling the bellies of a flotilla of tiny canoes floating lazily downstream. Their heads nod up and down in approval. A cheeky dragon boat arrives to challenge one and all to a fire-breathing duel.
Sunday morning when the creature appeared, my day had started early. Age has given my body a clever device that nudges me from my warm bed for bathroom breaks. Now I appreciate each new day but 5:30 a.m. borders on the disrespectful.
Sunday morning, waking up.
Two bagels, toasted,
peanut butter,
coffee in my cup. Later, snoozing in my chair,
whale sounds filled the morning air.
Whooshing loudly, what is it doing?
Tiny plankton it’s pursuing.
Up-right, multi-coloured whale
dances down the valley of bridges on its tail.
Propane burners heat its air,
Edmonton’s whale? So rare, so rare.
Magical Edmonton, my past, my present, my future, where nothing is so contagious as enthusiasm. Our own hearts, and not other people’s opinions, form our true honour.
