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Son et Lumière at Parliament Hill

Wed, 4 Aug 2010, 10:15 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

In Ottawa every night in the summer, they have a sound and light show at Parliament Hill. In the evening after the day of our train adventure, Trudy and I took the #12 bus down Montreal Road and Rideau Street into town to see it…

The sky was dark and threatened rain which came and caused us and the few other early-comers to flee to the porticos of nearby buildings. However the rain was short-lived, failing to even dampen the grass. So everyone eventually returned to their chosen places in the bleachers or on the grass.

There was a tiny fuzzy dog on a leash made of string that was a kid magnet. There was a family with many children, each with his or her own kid-sized folding chair. And there was a policeman who wandered thru the growing crowd joking with people and at one point asking (in French) if this one kid-sized chair was his, which caused a little girl to dash out from behind her mother shouting “Non! Non!” and sit down in her almost-taken spot.

At 9:30 sharp, the show started.

This wasn’t your father’s sound and light show with some dim colored lights shining on the building while a narrator told a story. No, this was something the likes of which I have never seen—certainly the likes of which I had not expected.

The whole of the parliament building was a screen for this show in which animated mountains and forests and plains were drawn in front of us. Where herds of deer ran and fields of grain were swept by the wind. They showed Canada from west to east, from long ago to today. They told the story of its natural history. And of its peoples. Of first nations. Of horrible wars. Of railroads. Of cities springing up.

The music surrounded us and filled the air. And the images drawn on the side of the building made our jaws drop. The windows and walls came alive with faces of Canadians talking about their land. The cornices and arches were etched in light. Parts of the building seemed to pop out at you in sync with the music. Snowflakes and rain drops fell from the tower. Flowers grew and blossomed and morphed into butterflies that flew off while mosquitos buzzed nearby. Red Maple leaves adorned the walls. Music blared.

The images accelerated, the music crescendoed. And we sat there in the grass stunned. By the end, I had tears streaming down my cheeks.

I’ve never seen anything like it.

© jumpingfish by David Hasan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License