reflections on long red lights

Anyone who bicycle commutes in Edmonton knows the city-planners' rule: if there is a red light on a bicycle route, it should be an extra-long red light.

This is true at a couple of the intersections on 106 Street heading south from the river. It is also true at 102 Ave. and 116 St.; 105 Ave. and 116 St.; 105 Ave. and 109 St.; at 121 Street and 104 Avenue; at Kingsway near the Royal Alex; at 111 Street near the transit centre. The list could go on.

I have to admit, sometimes this really irks me, especially when the wind chill is around -35 C and I am literally the only person at the intersection, waiting, waiting, waiting for the light to change.

 

Recently, however, I have been trying to use these long waits as opportunities for reflection. 

The corner pictured here provides the waiting bicycle rider with ample food for thought. 

On my left I can feast my eyes on Umberto's hair salon, with its quaint 1940s architecture, complimented by Italian-themed awnings and a coat of mustard paint. 

And just in case I am tempted to forget this important truth, Umberto reminds me: 

"After all, no matter what you wear... you are still judged by your hair."

Thank you, Umberto! This is just what I want to think about as my hair is being squashed into strange shapes by my bike helmet, aided by the elements.

But that's OK. If I tire of Umberto's, I can turn my gaze to the other side of the street and The Twinson apartment building. 

Where, I ask myself, does this name come from? Is Twinson a surname? Apparently not, an admittedly cursory Google search tells me. (I have time for said Google search as I wait for the light to change.) So, perhaps the owner is the proud parent of twin boys. But in that case, shouldn't the name be The Twin Sons? This conundrum occupies my mind until, at last, the light turns green.

I get ready to ride, only to find that I have to wait until the drivers whose green light didn't last long enough shoot through the intersection on the red light. 

I would be annoyed by them, but by this time I am so grateful for the opportunity to continue my ride that I almost feel like writing a thank you note to the city: 

Thank you, City of Edmonton, not only for giving me time to pause in my busy day and reflect on the important things in life, but also for allowing the light to turn green so that I can proceed on my journey. And thank you that I can look forward to several similar lengthy waits opportunities for reflection before I reach my destination.

What about you? Where are your favourite lengthy red lights on your bicycle commute? What deep thoughts occupy your mind as you wait for the light to change?