Feilds of Gold and City Lights

The drive into Edmonton on a Sunday has a way of stretching something open in me.

There’s the excitement of getting out for a while, breathing different air, seeing different faces. A little people-watching. A little peopling. And, of course, the occasional “arg!” when another stretch of road is under construction.

Then the work zones fall away, and the fields open up.

Fields of gold, with no snow yet. It’s November and still the ground is bare. I’ve travelled these roads thousands of times, through childhood and adulthood. So much has changed, and so much has stayed. The fields are still there. Look, cows grazing in that one. That’s new. A new speed limit sign: 120 kilometres an hour. Isn’t that what I was driving before? Haha.

There’s the airport just outside Edmonton. A vacation would be nice. And then, there’s the city.

Wow. It really is spreading south. Oh, Ikea! No Ikea today. There are other things to do.

When I was a kid, travelling to my father’s in Wetaskiwin every second weekend came with the possibility of a trip into Edmonton. For a kid from the sticks, that was huge. The city held all kinds of places that felt special and different. There was shopping on Whyte Avenue, Beadworks, and Divine Decadence, where I got my first pair of Doc Martens. Or, even better, meeting family at the infamous Bullwinkles. The games were the best.

Does anyone remember Fuddruckers? The hot, dispensable cheese that sat in giant cauldrons, waiting for you to pump it all over your enormous plate of fries. Ugh. I can still smell that place. To die for.

Now I make these trips more often. I call them short trips, though they usually take the whole day. Friends from Ontario used to marvel that Albertans would drive all over the province in a day without thinking much of it. Rain, wind, snow, or sun, we’re driving.

Once I’ve finished what I came to do, I often take a drive around to see the new neighbourhoods and developments. Change feels bigger in the city. In a small town like Sylvan Lake, projects tend to be smaller and the timelines shorter. Things start, and before long, they are finished. Edmonton’s projects are larger, with deeper infrastructure changes and timelines that can seem to stretch across a lifetime.  Will the LRT expansion be finished before I am 50? Only time will tell, yet that’s only 3 years away.

Maybe that’s the difference between life on a macro scale and life on a micro one. In the city, everything feels busy. Hustle and movement until the sun goes down, and then traffic thins to a trickle. The city is never quite still: lights glow in the windows, someone is always out jogging, and somewhere nearby, food is cooking.

 I drive home feeling both invigorated and tired. My new shoes from MEC are exactly what I wanted. I’ve seen familiar roads, new buildings, old memories, and a city that keeps reaching out in all directions.  Thank you, Edmonton.