In my adult life, I’ve become a morning person. I love to see the sun starting to shine through my windows as it rises. I love the way, when you go out for a walk before ten o’clock, it can feel like the world belongs to no one but you. But Ian has been working evening and night shifts since we lived in Paris and because he’s my partner, as well as my photographer, our lives are driven by this routine. I find myself going to bed later because it means we have more time together, and slowly, our early morning adventure time has shortened by a few minutes a week, until it completely disappeared. By some miracle of shift scheduling, Ian recently had four days off in a row. We went to sleep early and woke up even earlier, greeting the early morning in Gastown. Mornings in Gastown have a particular kind of charm that mornings on Ile de la Cite in Paris don’t offer – we shared the streets with the transient population, many of whom drift in and out of the residences at the nearby Hotel Europe, and with the remains of parties from the night before, which meant that sitting on the curb was a truly daring move. But the air and the light and the feeling of temporarily owning the world were all just as I remembered. I really am trying to get to bed earlier from now on… but less face it, Netflix is bed doesn’t make it that easy.
