Being without a car, my walks around my study site always begin in the same place – at Bay Station, from which I emerge into the midst of a bustling downtown. Now, bustling is not a word that most would associate with Edmonton, and perhaps I’ve been unduly influenced towards a use of the word by so many other of the world’s downtowns, but at lunch hour, in the summertime, as all the suits empty out onto the streets and head towards the nearest Tim’s or Starbucks of Second Cup or Subway, I can hear, between animated conversations and clicking heels, the sort of bustle that occurs in grander cities.

It’s amazing how fast that bustle disappears though – walk one block south, and there’s nothing but silent churches, and one more block takes you into the sleepy green neighbourhoods that fit most people’s vision of Edmonton. And with the steep slope down to the river valley, by the time you’re three blocks south of Jasper, any bustle it might contain is out of sight and mind. Though I’m probably completely wrong, the feeling of detachment between the two areas – commercial and residential – convinces me that the heeled suits clicking across concrete plazas could never be the same as those who live in Rossdale’s quiet homes, and tread over the soft grass again and again until a path is formed.