The pace is always unashamedly slow, meandering in gumboots and raincoat. The smells of nature rise above the usual perfume of the city. I smell soaked cedar, soggy soil, and greenery disturbed by water.
Even at my slowest on a bicycle, I wouldn't get quite this much detail. I lean in with my camera, examining the individual droplets coating every leaf, petal, and stalk.
At the edge of Stanley Park, garden pathways invite, but there are still pockets of wild. Ferns unfurl in dark corners that rarely see sunlight. Moss creeps out across any available surface, glowing the bright green of new spring.
Love the rain. After all, if this wasn't city, it would be rainforest.
