Sunrise, Christmas morning. I looked outside to see a touch of blue in the dark sky, and the promise of a sunny day ahead. I remembered a story about a photographer who shoots downtown streets at dawn on Christmas morning. He figured that there are fewer cars on the road then than at any other time of the year. So I jumped in my car and headed over the Burrard Street Bridge to confirm that theory. Sure enough, I had just about every street to myself, apart from the occasional cab and a handful of committed joggers and dog walkers. I can park anywhere. Jaywalk as I please. Stand in the middle of intersections with impunity. So this is what it feels like to be the last man on earth.
When the sun finally came up I headed to the overpass on the Stanley Park Causeway to see how the day looked from one of my all-time favourite views in the city. The clouds parted and gave me a glimpse of the North Shore mountains, then closed for the rest of the day.
