We stepped onto cracked pavement. A paper coffee cup rolled along the curb. A man slept on a park bench, his belongings piled around him like a small campsite. Under the cover of a tree behind him, a beaver. A statue painted in red and white. A maple leaf across his chest. A hometown superhero.
One down. Fifty to go. Hidden around the city.
On a patio behind a chain-link fence, chairs stacked against the wall, garbage cans still wet from cleaning the night before. The Australian beaver. An orange Aperol Spritz sign leaning against the wall behind him.
An hour later, I’m pretending to kick a cement soccer ball out from under the foot of the beaver from Brazil.
A Sunday morning scavenger hunt with no real point to it.
Most everything else I do has a reason. And a schedule. I cram too much into a day not to.
5:15 am. A giant tongue attached to a living, breathing stuffed toy, licks me awake. Ten minutes later, a leash in each hand. Poop bags in my pocket, we’re walking the streets as the bunnies forage in the gardens.
Blow a kiss to the Mexican Beaver at St. James Park.
Most days…
9:14. Hit send on the email, grab gym shoes, just enough time to make it to the 9:30 class.
Pat the Columbian beaver on the head.
2 p.m. End the meeting, open another zoom window. Reach for my water. Empty.
Pick tulips at the feet of the beaver from the Netherlands.
9 p.m. Open the back door. Let the dogs out one last time. Grab the tray of vitamins. Empty the contents of the Tuesday PM slot into the palm of my hand. Water, gulp. Lights out.
A calendar full of reasons.
One Sunday without one.
The first beaver, we took an awkward photo. By the fifth, I was pretending to kick a soccer ball.
The closest I’d come to an Easter egg hunt in decades. Only this time, the surprises were painted beavers tucked into the corners of Toronto.
Leave it to the beavers. And the simple pleasure of doing something and nothing at the same time.
We didn’t find all 51. I don’t think we even found 15.
Next Sunday, anyone?
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Each week, I share something I’m learning, living, or working out in real time. It’s part storytelling, part reflection. I hope there’s something in it for you too.
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