Last weekend, me and Lee-Anne visited Guelph and toured some of the old places that I knew growing up.
First thing I noticed was that Riverside Park appears to have been rebranded as Royal City Park. For some reason, Guelph is known as The Royal City. It doesn't make much intuitive sense as I think our original function was as a farming community meant to feed Toronto. There's a reason for the nickname, and I've looked it up, but I always forget.
I don't mind the rebranding. Cambridge has a Riverside Park, and it was slightly awkward that the two cities had the same name for their main parks.
We checked out the house that burned a year ago.
It appears to be occupied now, and there's a second door at the front of the house. The top portion was always sectioned into two, but one part was only accessible via the side door.
We went all the way back to the apartment that I lived in between ages 3-16.
We lived in the one second to the top. Unfortunately, a tree that I felt a connection with as a child, that I named Spikey is no longer there. He was a young tree that I saw planted, so he must not have reached his natural lifespan.
We went to the plaza across the street.
Not much changed to be honest. Then we visited my old elementary school.
In this pic, we're standing at the top of a hill. This was the spot for sledding during winters. My old school is the small, low structure at the bottom.
Then I showed Lee-Anne an area off the side of the hill. It connected to the child author Robert Munsch's old neighbourhood. He would visit our classes on Pyjama Days and read us stories and he used to give out miniature versions of his books to Trick or Treaters on Halloween. Recently it's been made public that he has requested Medical Assistance in Dying. I think he's been unwell for awhile.
There's a patch of forest around this area that my classes would sometimes take trips to. I remember being told that one of the trees was the oldest in Guelph. I don't know how closely they're keeping track of that, but I did find the one that this claim was put to.
Then we walked to my old middle school. Everything was so familiar, like I'd been there yesterday. It almost seemed like I was in the wrong body.
We visited the old forest that I used to walk in with my friends after school. This was the main draw of the trip. Most of it had been cut down. This wasn't news to me, it happened shortly before I graduated. But when I left, the land hadn't yet been developed. Now, the area where I used to walk in the woods was covered in houses.
I knew that some of my old forest was protected wetlands, and indeed, I found a significantly sized patch.
Apparently it's known as Ellis Creek Wetland. I never knew it to have a name before. It now has a maintained path through it. The sign says that it's a "sensitive", "Provincially Significant" silver maple swamp and has guidelines for how homeowners can protect the land. It feels funny that some respect has been put on it after most of it was cut.
Sometimes I reflect on my childhood and think how there used to be lots of ladybugs, but I don't see them anymore. Since extinction of flying insects is considered one of this planets most impending threats, I thought that maybe this was due to climate change. But there were ladybugs in the forest. Also, lots of burs, which caused me some grief when I got them tangled in my then-long hair. I guess these were just staples of the wetland microclimate.
We did get off the maintained path and scrambled through the wilder area, more familiar to my memory. We saw the knobbly roots of trees accustomed to flooding. I took a rock home with me as a souvenir.
