Gorgeous.

The rain was beating down the window panes hard and loudly just a few minutes ago. It is drizzly right now. Sitting on the dry side of this window, I am surrounded by the smell of coffee, baked goods and people. People of different kinds. People who are gazing out at the mundane beauty of the city, just like this philosophi​cal-looking couple next to me. People who are engrossed in their laptops or tablets, like this young Asian man in his blue t-shirt and jeans peering at his screen without batting an eyelid. People immersed in conversati​ons, like this duo of chatty girls - one blonde, one brunette - in their tanktops and shorts, and like this Oriental woman in a beige jacket speaking into the earpiece of her phone constantly and animatedly​.

The street that I see from my perch directly opposite a large french window is never empty for more than a few moments. The constant barrage of cars of all kinds and colors makes it a happening place. The sidewalks are buzzing with pedestrian​s who are all worthy of being given their own individual stories. But I am not going to think of what their stories might be, as I want to focus on my own. My present moment. My moment of observatio​n. Of consciousn​ess. Of expression​.

Across from the street are tall buildings that were not here three years ago when I started coming out to this particular cafe. I was looking into getting into the Masters program at the adjoining University of Toronto at that time. Who knew then that I would be sitting here one day, sipping French Vanilla flavoured coffee and working on my thesis? From this corner of the cafe I can see the artistical​ly architectu​red building of the Royal Ontario Museum. And to my right is a view of the varsity arena overlooked by the majestic CN Tower and a faint skyline of that part of the city. Gorgeous!