Wonder dogs, foliage & Big Daddies

Last weekend a friend and I set out into the crisp autumn evening with the intention of visiting The Underdog Club Gallery. This is an organization that supports local rescues and hard to place dogs by showcasing them & a fine selection of homeless dog photography. We had seen earlier in the day that an event was scheduled on this evening. Unfortunately our half hour walk in the icy wind and rain led us to a dark storefront, not a dog or human to be found. Drat!

It wasn't for nothing.

On our way back I spotted someone coming out of a building that I thought must be this gorgeous Westmount library everyone was going on about. It wasn't really the way the building looked from the outside, in fact, the entrance was extremely underwhelming, but more an adventurous pull, a soft calling like tiny hands tugging at our coats. Get.in.here.

So we did.

Inside was a strange blend of breathtaking moldings, lawyer lamps and industrial bookshelves. An out of place mid 50's couple giggled in the corridor and except for that, all was dead silent. Very few people were there. I felt that even whispering was too much for this place to handle. We wandered a bit, like dusty ghosts hovering from room to room.

Through a window, we spotted tropical plants.

"An Atrium..." Weirdy(my friend) noted.



We thought it a good idea to get a better look from outside. We went back to where we came in and found the atrium entrance through another very black corridor we had already passed. All of the lights were off inside.....but the hours stated that it was clearly a good time and this door was open to us.



It was a magical place, damp and old. It was like Jumanji in the attic and not a soul was around. We stepped back in time, into a dream, into the underwater city of Rapture. If Andrew Ryan's voice had suddenly spilled out of the flowers and pipes, I wouldn't have been surprised.