PARK is eavesdropping on birds from neighbouring trees.

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PARK is lilting above the hum of urban traffic. 

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PARK is watching the crocuses bloom but not knowing their name.

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PARK is anticipating what’s next — bus, wind, snow, show.

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PARK is walking through Riverdale on your way to work, like it’s inconvenient.

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PARK is rushing to the car to be stuck behind the dump truck.

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PARK is waiting in place while being at your destination.

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PARK is holding on for 17 years to scream at the top of your lungs for 6 weeks. 

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PARK is the echoes of laughter from the swing set.

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PARK is finding the perfect spot for a picnic.

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PARK is the rhythm of wind passing through the leaves.

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PARK is barking dogs watching the squirrels leap between the trees.

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PARK is wanting to kiss your crush during a Christie Pits sunset.

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PARK is the final step before reaching home.

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PARK is staying a little longer than is necessary.