Towers that once lit the way

Under tension
Dollard-des-Ormeaux, QC
October 2022
This photo originally shared on Instagram

We lived here once, a quiet suburb in Montreal’s West Island.

As I was young and insane back then, I rode my bike to work in the shadows of these very towers. They were always in my peripheral vision, industrial-looking giants that defined the route and pointed me toward where I needed to go.

I returned to this place on a bitterly cold, windy day, and I had time to kill. So I wandered around the old ‘hood looking for touchstones that once meant something to me. No bike this time. Just a camera, a warm coat, and a bunch of fuzzy memories looking for a trigger or two, or a glimpse back into what seemed like another lifetime.

The towers never were, and still were not, remotely remarkable. Bare infrastructure that no one cares about until the lights go out.

But back when I trekked further on a bike than some folks did in a car, they were beacons of the neighborhood, waiting for me to return from afar, distant signs on the horizon that I was close to home, close to safety.

Today I’d just follow the guidance on my Garmin, or plot a better route in Google Maps. But back then, cycling wasn’t so much an exercise in connected technology as it was a singular trek into and through the unknown. Every ride was its own little adventure, and if I was feeling particularly adventurous I’d shake up the routing and bit and try not to get lost.

It was these towers that kept me on track, ever-present beacons that seemed to be visible no matter how many wrong turns I took. One well-timed peek and I knew precisely where I needed to go.

Ultimately, we all need some form of direction. Where we get it from is entirely up to us, but we’ve got to open our eyes first.

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