Islands in the Sun

Bill King Photography

It’s one of those summers when you commit to doing something extra every day. A destination. Lunch at a restaurant never visited. A neighbourhood never walked. Something that takes you beyond the usual route and makes the day feel a little larger.

Kristine and I have been on a mission to squeeze as much summer as possible out of these short months. We know how quickly the season moves. One minute, we’re waiting for the first warm day, and the next, somebody is talking about Labour Day. So far, we’ve been on a roll, getting out there and making the most of it.

I’m an advocate for Toronto. No hesitation. After checking today’s temperatures in Memphis and Savannah—104 and 111 degrees Fahrenheit—I’m hanging tight with our low 80s. That works just fine for me.

We lived in Atlanta, and the summers were a challenge. Even our time in Nashville tested our survival skills. That Southern heat doesn’t play around. It follows you down the street, climbs into the car and waits at the front door. Toronto has its hot days, sure, but I’ll take the breeze off the lake and keep moving.

Today marked trip number eight to the Toronto Islands.

Most visitors are satisfied with a drop-off at Hanlan’s Point, Centre Island or Ward’s Island. Each one has its own rhythm and reason for being there. We landed on Centre Island and crossed the stone bridge onto Olympic Island, another small territory carrying more history than its size might suggest.

Olympic Island is a small public island beside Centre Island in the Toronto Islands. The area is part of the traditional territory of the Mississauga’s of the Credit and was used for healing, ceremony, fishing and gathering for thousands of years. Long before ferry schedules, picnic tables and tourists holding city maps, this was a place of purpose and connection.

The islands themselves developed from shifting sandbars and wetlands. A major storm in 1858 separated them from the mainland, helping create the geography we recognize today. After Toronto acquired the Islands in 1867, Olympic Island evolved into open parkland rather than a residential neighbourhood.

Its broad lawns and proximity to the Centre Island ferry made it a natural setting for recreation and large public gatherings. The island hosted the Mariposa Folk Festival in 1968, Canadian Open Frisbee competitions, Caribana events and the Olympic Island Festival concert series from 2004 to 2010. Music, movement, competition and celebration have all passed across that grass.

Today, visitors come for picnics, fire pits, festivals and an impressive view of Toronto’s skyline.

That view is something to lock down.

We found a picnic bench near the water’s edge and stared back at the city across the broad lake waterway. From there, Toronto looked almost theatrical. Towers rising in the distance. Boats cutting through the foreground. Aircraft passing overhead. People spreading out across the grass behind us.

The breeze was exactly what we had hoped for.

We’ve stopped the quick pace and the get-there-now walks. We’re replacing all of that with stopping and staying. Find a bench. Watch the action. Enjoy what is directly in front of us. There’s no point in racing across an island simply to say you reached the other side.

The ferry ride over was free for seniors and crowded.

I’m cool with that.

I like big crowds and mass movement. Humanity in motion. The camera works better for me that way because people “make” a photo. Buildings provide the structure. Water and sky give you the background. But people bring the moment to life.

I can easily squeeze through a crowd and go about my business. The eyes and brain are in sync, always searching for that unique second of human interplay. A gesture. A glance. A child pulling a parent toward the railing. Friends gathering themselves for a picture. Someone laughing before they know a camera is nearby.

Those are the moments I’m looking for.

Today was a blast. The photographs show Toronto as a place where nations from around the world share open land respectfully and connect with family and friends. Languages move through the crowd. Food is unpacked. Blankets are spread across the grass. Children run in every direction while the adults settle in and let the afternoon unfold.

We spend more time talking to the world—the many faces from afar—and damn, it’s so easy. A comment about the ferry, a question about a camera, a shared laugh while waiting for someone to move out of the way. That is often all it takes.

People are terrific.

Sometimes you only need to slow down long enough to notice.