The Ravine Behind the Condo

Take the stairs behind the parking garage and the city changes its mind. Thirty steps down, the traffic thins to a hush, and a creek you never knew existed is working quietly through the leaves. A heron stands motionless in the shallows, unbothered by passing joggers. Someone’s dog splashes past, wildly delighted. Above you, the towers keep their distance. People say Toronto is concrete and cranes, and some days that’s true. But it is also a city built across ravines, with wild places folded into its streets like pages in a book. You only have to want to go down.