July 26, 2006

First night of the fireworks at English Bay.  Just us and a quarter million of our neighbours. 
 
I’m not sure why photographers try to capture fireworks, or sunsets.  The result is always going to be a little disappointing, since you’re turning something that generates light into something that reflects it.  So we get a little arty instead.
But here’s something you might not have seen if you don’t stick around after the crowds have dispersed.  Down on Beach Avenue by the Aquatic Centre, there’s a convoy of sanitation trucks waiting to move into action, preceded by a phalanx of motorcycle cops, their lights ablaze.
  As the parade gets underway, there are cheers from the balconies above; people applaud from the curbs.  Someone even has a trumpet.   This must be a thrill for guys in the Engineering Department.  Talk about respect.
 
And for boys, who are genetically programmed to get off on trucks, the engineering parade must be a bigger blast than the fireworks. 

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A perfect day, really: sunny but not too hot. The beaches and bikeways are packed, and people seem in the mood to dance the day away. In some cases literally.

On Granville Island, a tuxedoed busker serenades the crowd with French ballads. A young couple finds just the right tempo to dance to his songs, and because they’re good, because they can really dance, their performance enchants the surrounding audience. They, however, only have eyes for each other as they dance among the pigeons and the children, perfectly in step and, you’d guess, in love. If it wasn’t all happening spontaneously, it would seem way too hokey. But it isn’t, of course. It’s a Sunday afternoon on Granville Island.

Not too far away, on Kits Beach, another kind of dance. I’m not really sure who they were or what they do, but here’s the scene:

In amongst the beautiful bodies, seated in a circle, half-dressed in white, chanting to the beat of some oddly shaped instruments, these young people from a myriad of races watch two of their own engage in what seems to be a highly choreographed version of martial arts. “Dance fighting,” says one of the observers.

Whatever it is (something Brazilian, perhaps), it’s perfect for Kits Beach.

Oh man, I love this city in the sunshine.

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