Out & About #716 | Edwards Gardens

My sole connection to the Toronto Botanical Gardens is an album from the 2000s, where family members had paid a visit to the attraction in my absence. I had set out to realize that experience firsthand some several years ago, ultimately unsuccessful due to unfavourably drizzly conditions.

A second attempt in the early pandemic period was also met with shuttered gates.

​An equally gloomy predecessor instigated the weekend drive. Hovering about the 15-degree mark with clear skies and ample radiance, the follow-up attempt was deemed the acceptable compromise between hiking and a walk in the park.

Majority of the pathways were paved, allowing for gradual elevation and depression along the route. Certain areas sported larger pieces of aggregate instead of smooth asphalt, indicating a potentially earlier period of construction.
A portion of the gardens was bordered by snow fences, yet oddly devoid of distinct delineation from the main path. Unbearably narrow and brimming with unmarked trip hazards and exposed wires, it was the singular section that raised concerns towards lack of signage and accessibility.

View the full album HERE !

​Navigating to a shaded strip along the Wilket Creek, it dawned upon me that I had take the Credit River for granted. Wilket Creek was slightly murky and extraordinary calm, even still in some areas. By contrast is the grandeur of the Credit River - brilliant and tenacious, emboying both power and grace.

​There was a stunning assortment of flowers to be seen throughout our walk, especially in the Teaching Gardens. It immediately occurred to me as an ideal destination for elementary and middle school field trips, as it enabled an educational portal into nature without the pains of perusing textbooks for relevant, interesting details.  Bug spray is recommended, especially where dampness and tree cover are prominent, in addition to supportive shoes to combat grade differences.

​One of the highlights was spotting a mole by the Teaching Gardens. Chubby like a beaver, I gasped as its behind disappeared into a nearby flower patch. All was still as we inched our way closer. Then came a pair of beady eyes, face half camouflaged in shrubbery. It had stuck its head out to observe us for a few seconds before retreating back into the patch, refusing a third appearance.

The trademark twinkly tune of an ice cream truck had found its way to our ears from a distance, thus we climbed up to Lawrence to meet it. Two Chocolate-Vanilla Twists were obtained. The Medium-sized soft serves set us back four dollars a cone, far more delectable than the overpriced Chocolato monstrosity and the likes of Costco's reinvented starch formula.

Parking was $2.50 per hour, which we surrendered at the entrance. We didn't finish trekking about the entire area within this time, but thoroughly enjoyed the leisurely walk. Beyond the non-uniform stairway, unmarked trip hazards, and paths that suddenly tapered off into grass then resumed later with no defined starting point, the venture had been enjoyable nonetheless

Washrooms and gift shop were closed during our visit, locked without staff presence.

As such, we made the trip to Shops at Don Mills; albeit boasting high traffic, presumably from pick-up orders, bathrooms were closed.

We proceeded to Fairview, traversing by Wooffles' new spot en route. All stalls were closed with the exception of the Family Bathroom. Patiently we waited in line for the one and only unisex stall. Unveiled as the man in front exited was the grotesque scene of urine on the seat and floor and diarrhea remnants on the seat. Security personnel were seemingly stricter than Square One, but sanitary protocols are noticeably substandard

Dinner was had on asphalt in the form of an open trunk/makeshift picnic setting, as executed regularly amidst this lockdown.

Procured from Moxies was a full rack of Baby Back Ribs and Sweet Potato Fries w/ Garlic Dip, both stellar and far more delectable than anticipated.
The Ribs were accompanied with creamy mashed potatoes topped with chives, and amazingly did not bear resemblance to the tacky mounds of thickened starch slurry à la Jollibee. Edges of the ribs were on the tough side, though meat was tender and coated luxuriously in a sweet and savoury barbecue sauce. Roasted zucchini and red bell peppers sections were also included in the box.

​Crunchy and adequately seasoned, the Sweet Potato Fries were positively phenomenal! The insulated pouch contained a generous portion that remained crisp even when retoasted as leftovers. It came with a dill-infused, tzatsiki-esque garlic dipping sauce, which was reserved for undecided later uses given the fries were sufficiently flavourful on their own

A complimentary White Chocolate Brownie was provided with the order. Separately packaged in paper were vanilla ice cream and whipped cream, which tasted typically commercial. The peculiar slab in the box, on the hand, was sickeningly sweet without a distinguishable texture. The proclaimed dessert was soggy with questionably runny chocolate sauce that had developed a film on its surface. We each took to two bites before eyeing the box with furrowed brows, then sealed it with dismay.