We were wandering around Granville Island earlier today. The intent was to pick up some sausages at Oyama’s, visit Paper-Ya, and a few other shops. It was stupid-busy on the Island; after two circuits we were headed off and going up and then decided to try the nearby neighbourhood to see if we could find some parking off-island….but within reasonable walking distance. We had success.
We explored the Net-Loft, bought a sticker book by an Instagrammed I follow, and then perused the sausage selection at Oyama’s. We made our choices, paid, and then were heading towards Bridges so I could take a photo of a container that I’d spied earlier….painted graffiti style with nothing but hearts. It had made me smile on our earlier attempts at finding a parking spot. How long must it have taken to spray all of these hearts onto the side of a sea-can!?
Bit before we got far…literally a few steps from the door into the market to make our sausage selections, a door was flung open in front of us and we had to stop short….and out of the door, on an arm…came….a hawk??
We froze and stared at the beautiful raptor as the body attached to the arm emerged and stopped….
A raptor is not exactly something one expects to see emerge from a door at the Granville Island Market….a foodie destination.
The fellow attached to the arm atop of which pierced a fabulous hawk turned his head towards us and smiled. He said “Hello”. And I asked if I could take a phot. He smiled again and said “of course”.
I can’t remember the bird’s name and, as a former parrot owner…it took every fibre of restraint to not reach out and stroke the magnificent bird’s head.
He told us it was a Harris’ hawk and her job was to frighten away the seagulls that would otherwise overwhelm the Island.
After that it was an impromptu stop at the Keg for a drink and a shared plate of escargot. I have a terrible sensitivity to food texture and can’t make a lot of foods pass my throat. Like cooked mushrooms….they just don’t work.
However, wrap them around snails (I can’t explain it) and smother them in garlic butter (OK, maybe I can explain it) and I do just fine.
And that’s what kind of day it was. Unscripted, unplanned, and totally relaxing.