Something wonderful happened in Vancouver this summer. The city, that bureaucratic mess of red tape and union nonsense that seems to get in people’s way more than they seem to help, did something positively magical.
In the dead of night, they painted a crosswalk. Now normally you’d see a dozen guys leaning on shovels taking a week to do this sort of job, but this clandestine crosswalk art just appeared one morning in the heart of Vancouver’s well-known gay district. In advance of the city’s annual Pride Parade and festival, a crosswalk was painted the colors of the rainbow, representing the flag for the cause.
A rainbow crosswalk. What a splendidly simple idea.
Already the district was adorned with a rainbow assortment of bus shelters instead of the standard city issued brushed metal. Already rainbow banners hung from the street lamps. This rainbow crosswalk in Vancouver, however, instantly became special. It was headline news on the morning of the reveal and has now become a tourist attraction of sorts.
On our recent tourist-y adventure through Vancouver, I made a detour on our way home from Stanley Park to stop at the intersection and take a picture with my son. He found the rainbows bright, colorful, and curious.
“Why are there rainbows on the road, Daddy?” he asked.
“They’re here to remind us we can love anyone we want,” I said reaching for my iPhone to take our selfie.
“I already love everybody, Daddy,” he smiled.