I decided it would be fun to go watch the fireworks tonight. I haven’t seen them for many years as I no longer live conveniently close to any good spots to watch from (Burnaby Street was especially good. Walk two blocks, park your butt and you’re set). I arranged to meet a friend who conveniently does still live downtown. I knew it would be crowded and all but hey, that’s part of the magic. Or something.
A few hours before I leave I notice clouds rolling in. It has been rather warm lately and to me it looks like we may be in for a thundershower. Sure enough I hear ominous rumblings pass through the clouds and lightning flashes across them. These types of summer storms usually pass through quickly, so I don’t think it will be a problem. By the time I am waiting for the bus it has tapered off to a slight drizzle. The sunset is freaking spectacular.
Ah, the bus. It is already crowded so the weather has not dampened the enthusiasm of the general public, it seems. Shortly after I get on a fellow who has perhaps had an alcoholic beverage or three parks himself in front of me (I am in a sideways seat) so as to allow me to take in his musky aroma. When the bus arrives at Pender and Hamilton a curious thing happens. The driver kills the engine and the lights. Sitting in a dark crowded bus is not the sort of intimate evening I prefer. A passenger loudly wonders what is going on and relays after a few minutes the message that the bus has broken down and is awaiting a mechanic. Hooray. I start hoofing it to my rendezvous point which is, as they say, over yonder. As I step out of the bus I note that the drizzle has changed to a downpour. That “quick” storm is still putting on its own impressive fireworks show.
As I walk up Pender I spy the guy who smelled a bit ripe. He is nonchalantly tagging a seniors facility with a large black marker. I always wondered who did this sort of thing. Now I know: drunk guys who need to shave and lose 40 pounds. I continue walking through downtown in an increasingly large sea of people. I observe no small amount of drunken behavior but little that could be deemed licentious. When I finally arrive at my destination I am completely drenched. I go to the wrong floor of the apartment building. I then discover that I haven’t been hearing my (new) cell phone ring and have missed every message, including one canceling going to the fireworks. That’s okay with me, really. I head back to the bus. It is still pouring.
As I walk the block up to my place I hear booms across the sky and this time it’s not Mother Nature but uh, Father Fireworks. I don’t care. I just want to be dry again. We try again Wednesday.
UPDATE: The Weather Network has a few shots of the sunset taken by locals. They are not very high quality but do give some sense of how vivid the color was. The shot below is of Coal Harbour, with Stanley Park in the background.
