It is not surprising that on the other side of the Dr. R. J. Black Toronto's Veterinary Hospital is a used car lot.  Naturally, a large animal hospital specialized in horses and cattle.  Eventually the Blacks became racing horse specialists serving Woodbine Race Track as the city grew around them.  The veterinary is decorated with old silver cups in old glass door wooden display cases.  Earlier, horses were the backbone of heavy land short haul transportation.  When automobiles arrived it was natural for the businesses which specialized in motors to establish themselves near a stable.

Woodbine Race Track has been converted into a townhouse development.

There is a new wave of shops on Queen Street East.  Shops that cater to people like me called "the gentry" by the old timers.

Our post-modern duplex (a facade representing the 120 year old worker's townhouse cottages) occupies land on which the Colgate Soap Factory was built and later was a parking lot for Toronto Transit buses. The contaminated soil had to be removed to a depth of six feet before our house was built. All around the district 19th century factory stacks pierce the forest canopy.

Turning north on Logan from the south side of Queen I walked past the Starbuck’s Coffee house at the 24 hour Logan westbound streetcar stop.  I seldom indulge myself in the expensive specialty shops.  I suppose I could afford it but something prevents me.  I was looking forward to a cup of instant coffee and 2 pieces of toast with peanut butter and honey for breakfast on the patio.

And, finally, back home.  That’s my new clover lawn about a week after planting.  It is, like my painting, an experiment.  From my research I’ve come to believe that a clover lawn, which does not require mowing or watering, is more hardy than a grass lawn.  I’ve kept clumps of grass in memorandum, they are flowering now and will grow tall, go to seed and ripen in the dry months ahead.  Other plants can be planted within the clover.  I’m not exactly certain what that it will become. I have no strategy. I play by ear and innovate.

I've grown weary of trying to maintain a lawn without the banned chemicals that are necessary for the maintenance of the freakish, suburban gardening fashion which mirrors Agra Business. 

This is the back lawn beside the garage after the raccoons dug it up last night while hunting for worms and grubs.  Once established the clover must live up to it’s reputation of being self healing, resistant to road salt, female dog urine, drought, trampling, and neglect while Mary and I travel in our spring and fall caravan camping seasons.

Until the roots become established, I've got work to do.

It is, I suppose, something like my painting which must survive me and continue to thrive without me. It is an experiment in survival and an evolution towards less irritation, labour, and frustration.

I suppose only the fittest to survive do and it is difficult to comprehend what can and cannot survive this intensely urban and quickly evolving environment.