Iceholes of Toronto – Part Two
More photos from my wander along the Beaches boardwalk in east Toronto, with some of my favourites from the walk in this stack.
- Not expecting to see the old man himself
- A sign of the layering that went into the massive ice formations
- A splash of colour held over from the holidays
- Another photographer grabs some close-ups of the ice
- The wind and waves force the curtain of ice to billow
- The constant dipping of the waves makes for oddly shaped icicles
- A sparrow surveys the landscape for food
- Walk carefully when looking from this vantage point
- Frozen echoes slowly release the fence below
- A grim visage holds the cliff, its teeth dangling in the water
- An attempt to brighten the chill with a colourful swing
See also Part One
Iceholes of Toronto – Part One
So, we’ve finally hit the sweet spot of Toronto’s winter…cold enough for the ice to be amazing along the lake, but warm enough I can actually work the camera button without suffering frost bite.
Here and in my next post are a few images I took down at the Beaches boardwalk in east end Toronto.
- A curtain of icicles dip into the lake
- A sparrow comes in to land
- Cannot stop the kayakers on even the coldest days
- An ice croc patrols the shore
- A frozen fence
- Sand captured in the ice
- Waiting for the bergs to float by
- Have a seat and break from the wind
- A woman walks her pup across the tundra
- The melt and freeze cycle builds an arch of ice
See also Part Two.
Marks for exclamation
Snow drifting

(Image property of Duncan Rawlinson; http://duncan.co/tag/snowing/)
From thousands of feet, the snowflake made its way from its misty nursery to a gentle caress of Henry’s cheek, slowly melting where ice meets the dampened skin to puddle with its fallen brethren.
Henry faces the sky, his back firmly planted in the snow bank, the drift slowly cocooning him as the crystalline waters descend, tears of boreal gods.
Flakes weave with the hairs of his beard, completing the whitening that age has yet left undone, his thinning scalp protected by the few remaining threads of a toque too old to be merely ancient.
Pedestrians trundle by, eyes held askew, muttering their disapproval as they bow their heads against the wind and cold. But he remains oblivious to their stares and sneers, in a world of his own, one with the thickening storm that swaddles him.
Henry doesn’t feel the cold they feel. He doesn’t feel the wind they fight. Nor does he feel the latex-gloved hands that lift him to the gurney as an unusually cold winter claims another life.
Fresh eyes – writing tip
Live, from Judea…
This just in….
Given the success of Saturday Night Live’s 40th anniversary special, NBC and Lorne Michaels are in talks to produce another reunion extravaganza.
Live, from Judea, it’s the Passion of the Christ 2015th Anniversary Special! #PotC2015
That’s right! They’re reassembling the old Not Ready For Christianity dinner theatre gang to remember the Summer of Love, when everyone was into whips and getting stoned.
No word yet on whether J.C. will attend, given his long-standing dispute with some of the former cast members and despite his ability to forgive everyone else.
It is hoped that He and Judas will set aside their differences and reunite for one last performance of their big musical number “Soul Man”.
Note: After their acrimonious split, J.C. launched a solo career for which he was crucified so badly that he joined the underground scene.
While heaven knows what the scheduling plans are, it is expected that NBC will slot the special right behind the new television hit Better Call Saul of Tarsus.
Details to come.
UPDATE: NBC just announced that the special’s guest host will be Mel Gibson.
Heart of Coppola
Francis Ford Coppola likes me! He really likes me!
So, no sooner do I finally get around to posting my laurels from Nashville than I find out that my screenplay The Naughty List was selected as a semifinalist in the 12th Annual American Zeotrope Screenwriting Competition, an organization run by Francis Ford Coppola (I seem to recall he was a director of geopolitical documentaries).
I had started to wonder if the screenplay was going to see any love in the competitive world…this is good!
So, what is the story of The Naughty List?
What would you do if you learned decisions you make every year ruin the lives of millions of children?
Oh, and your name is Santa Claus.
After a brush with death just days before Christmas, Santa rescinds the Naughty List only to learn that for some kids, the lump of coal started a life-long downward spiral. In fact, two kids—now warlords—are about to unleash hell on each other and their people.
With a loving heart and snowy balls, child-like Santa dives into the fray. But his magical meddling only makes things worse.
He greases the wheels of war. More children suffer, including a girl desperate to save her family. As his magic fails, Santa knows he must face the oncoming storm as a mortal.
One man. Two armies. Can Santa stop the madness and save a crumbling Christmas?
Belated laurels
Ah yes, almost forgot. This showed up in my in-box back in December. The laurels for my Best Animated Feature Screenplay at the 2014 Nashville Film Festival.
The winner was my screenplay for Tank’s, a story that proves even a fish in water can be a fish out of water.
To read the opening pages of Tank’s, visit:
Seniority
The world wizzes by
At sixty minutes an hour
As the invisible old man
Shuffles by the store window.
Faces, buried in phones,
Are oblivious to his struggles
As early winter snows
And joints no longer fresh
Imperil every footfall;
Each step an exercise
Of will and forethought.
Hands palsy of cold and age,
Eyes rheum of wind and memory,
But the soul burns wildly
Despite bodily afflictions.
Crowds thicken and jostle;
The man holds his place
To catch balance and breathe.
And historied eyes rise
To catch reflections in glass.
The eyes that watch me
Are my own of blue,
But the husk that bears them
Is that of an ancient;
Frail and mortal witness
To a life eternal.

(Source: http://www.paularcher-uk.com)






























