This morning, it’s a refreshing 15 degrees celsius. The sky is a crisp clean blue, with not a hint of a cloud. Thanks to several days of strong rain last week, the grass is a vibrant green, the bushes and trees are full of life, and the sidewalks and roads are as clean as can be.

On my daily commute, my bus travels down the Ottawa River Parkway. It parallels the wide Ottawa River for at least five kilometres. At one end, there are abandoned mill works and a lock, dating from the river’s past as a logging route. At the other, Parliament Hill - the seat of government.

Across the river, the less developed Quebec shore is covered in vegetation, all the way up to the escarpment in the Gatineau national park.

Ducks, geese, groundhogs, rabbits and the occasional deer are a regular sighting alongside the Parkway.

During the summer, the rapids found mid-river are a popular destination for world-class kayakers.

So why are all the mindless automatons blindly staring towards the front of the bus, their hands tightly gripping one of three things: their coffee, their briefcase, or the handrail on the seat in front of them?

Is there a compelling urge to see your office building before anyone else?

If I was fifteen and back in school, I’d be cutting on a day like today.

Technorati Tags: , ,