This past weekend I had a wedding at Kew Gardens in the gazebo. After sweeping up the cigarette butts it's my new favorite wedding venue. Steps from the Queen Streetcar to the north and a short walk to the lake at the south, with a densely wooded path for the bride or whomever to walk out from to the west and lush greenery to the east, the gazebo itself stands on it's own. I have no idea when it was built, but the ornate iron work suggest the first bit of the last century. Windows along it's top let in indirect light but not rain, and a single iron and wood park bench adorns the hardwood floor. The paint is peeling everywhere, giving the romantic structure a sense of aging sort of beauty. If a big band were to appear out of nowhere, they'd be at home here. If an ancient carousel rose from the ground a hundred yards or so away, it wouldn't be out of place.
The Beach (or Beaches for pluralist) is the one part of Toronto that truly has a west coast feel to it, whether it's because of the level of the land or proximity to the lake or the rise of the streets heading north, I don't know. The vibe is brilliant and Kew Gardens seems to be it's beating heart.
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