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rfmcdonaldI went to High Park yesterday to see the last of the cherry blossoms and to take photographs of the park in spring bloom, not necessarily in that order. (I managed to winnow down my photographs to sixty or so. I'm getting better at that.)
The park was packed. All sorts of people had come to take advantage of a beautiful day, the last and titular day of the Victoria Day long weekend, to enjoy an increasingly green High Park anow that a long and brutal winter was finally over. One of these sorts were photographers. We were everywhere, taking group shots by the tulips at the northern entrance opposite the subway station, solitary shots among the trees or by Grenadier Pond or on the Queensway, or just posing under trees like a graceful weeping willow or even the last tree in the park to keep its cherry blossoms.
The park was packed. All sorts of people had come to take advantage of a beautiful day, the last and titular day of the Victoria Day long weekend, to enjoy an increasingly green High Park anow that a long and brutal winter was finally over. One of these sorts were photographers. We were everywhere, taking group shots by the tulips at the northern entrance opposite the subway station, solitary shots among the trees or by Grenadier Pond or on the Queensway, or just posing under trees like a graceful weeping willow or even the last tree in the park to keep its cherry blossoms.
