There’s something special about catching the ferry out to Ward’s Island on a Saturday morning. The air feels lighter — maybe it’s the lake breeze or the sense that for a few hours, the city across the water is on pause.
Our photo walk crew met at the terminal, still half-awake, coffee cups in hand. The Thomas Rennie sat waiting, its crew going through the morning routine — ropes clinking, gates swinging, a friendly “watch your step” as we boarded. I love moments like that — routine for them, but for photographers, it’s a little scene worth keeping.
Inside the ferry, the wooden floors creaked beneath us. Life jackets hung like paper lanterns from the ceiling, rows and rows of them — a pattern of safety and nostalgia. The benches by the windows caught the morning light just right, throwing long stripes across the worn boards.
By the time we reached the island, bikes rolled off first, followed by us camera folks, already squinting into the sun, looking for our first shot. Toronto’s skyline shimmered behind us, but ahead was quiet — trees, paths, and the soft hum of weekend peace.
That ferry ride, though short, always feels like a small reset. One moment you’re in the city rush; ten minutes later, you’re somewhere that feels like another world — and all it cost was a ticket and the curiosity to bring your camera along.
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