One of the best coffee shops in Ottawa has both excellent coffee and a premiere location, a few chairs sit outside it looking out onto the square hosting our National Arts Centre, the magnificent old-world looking Chateau Laurier, and our national war memorial—home to our unknown soldier, laid to rest in a busy place, a reminder of mortality, cruelty, & heroism, all at once—it is a great location to enjoy a coffee.
Watching people go by, as I do, I saw a seniors travel group walking with a guide. These retired folks were chatty, though they also looked a little bit like they were going through the motions, another square in a another city, another sculpture…They were politely listening and learning about Canadian history—I presume— when all of a sudden one elderly man jumped.
The motion was enough, in a busy place with lots of activity and people, to draw my attention to him instantly. I work in a church, and I know that for the most part older folks don’t move that fast, and if they do something is probably wrong, so at his jump my heart jumped, I was at full alert, did I need and AED? Did he need insulin? Should I run over there to help (I am more like Don Quixote than I like to admit to myself:)
Nope!
He smiled a huge smile, spoke to no one, his mouth almost a comic book “O” shape, he was reverently looking up. It must be something amazing, too quiet for the snowbirds, but something cool, something literally jaw-dropping. I was less excited by what he was looking at than with him. He reached down and grabbed his large camera (no iPhone for this guy) and began to snap away. I suppose I realized that whatever it was was still there and so I finally looked up to see what this guy was so excited about.
Imagine my surprise, and my delight that I was more focused on the old guy, when I realized he was excited about the old post office building on the corner with its built in clock. Now, this building is lovely and the clock is well done, but I was inspired less by the built environment and more by this man and his obvious enthusiasm for life. To take joy and awe where he can, he must have learned that somewhere. He was practicing a craft (photography) while appreciating the craftsmanship and architecture of others.
It felt like history was colliding, an old building, surely older than the war memorial, maybe even older than the wars,
maybe that post office was heavily used back then as people struggled to send letters and postcards back and forth,
the unknown solder laid to rest for all time,
this man enjoying life before he too would be laid to rest, as we all must one day be,
and me, drinking my coffee.
Part of why I like to write and capture photos is precisely what this old man was up to, to practice enjoying life, practicing noticing the little things I might otherwise take for granted, so I wish I could thank that man for his example, but this little blog post, and my photos will have to do.
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