Shawn Micallef, one of Toronto’s psychogeographers, wrote some time ago in an issue of Eye Weekly about a particular sculptural piece:
On Yonge Street, the Hogg’s Hollow dip divides the city deeper and wider than the Don Valley and is the scourge of north-south cyclists passing by York Mills Station. At the southern crest […] is a giant surveyor’s compass called “Toronto’s Northern Gateway.” It’s a vestige of old Metro, when this was the border between Toronto and North York. Like all borders that don’t exist anymore, we cross it without thinking, only occasionally noticing something that reminds us it was there.
I like how the description of the particular leads to a general observation.
And so for day 577