postcards from toronto II


Tomorrow I fly back to Munich with a suitcase generously packed with maple syrup and Canadian-made mustard. Leaving Canada is bittersweet. Time feels different when you are back at home. You have years and years of memories that animate the streets you walk on and the cafes you frequent. With so much history in a city, the past feels closer to the present. It has a bigger influence, a stronger presence. And that is what it means to be rooted somewhere.

I was hoping to write more while in Canada. I wanted to tell tales of ferries and islands, oysters and ale, barbecues and wild blackberries. I wanted to narrate them in the present tense, but instead I'll have to use the past. 

Thank you Toronto for always feeling like home, no matter how far away I've gone or how long I've been away.

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