Our newest house is west of the new Light Rail Transit station. Like the house in which we live, it is only a half block from the tracks - but, unlike our domicile, the station is right there.
I noticed the difference because of the sound. House #1 is bathed in the dinging bells of the level crossing where the LRT shoots out of the tunnel from downtown. House #3 hears the lower, mellifluous bells which announce the arrival of the train at a station - and the recorded voice of the station announcement. Far enough away that you can't hear it from inside the house.
There were lots of dignitaries at the opening of the new LRT station last weekend - people I recognized from every level of government. The pedestrian/bicycle underpass hosted blue-icinged cupcakes, popcorn (how many poisons can they offer me in one event?) and a roster of young musicians - young and good, I must say. Although playing amplified music in a concrete tunnel assured a decibel level that I wouldn't stay around for.
The little dead end street is showing a fair amount of activity as people renovate, making a desirable location even more so.
Our house was empty for much of the winter - with the exception of a few very short-term guests. This weekend it will be invaded by a family of 5. It has been two years since the house saw this kind of liveliness. I look forward to feeling a more active vibe there. We have been furnishing the place, and it is starting to look like someone's home again.
Soon we will have to stock the pond with koi or goldfish to keep the tradition that Virginia Van Santen started. Many of the paving stones around the pond have heaved owing to the fierce fast freezing cycles of the Edmonton winters, and we will eventually have to do something about that if we keep the house. For now it makes the backyard look like a wild, abandoned magical place - including the old blue bicycle rusting against the fence.
