WEST DON RUINS
As to those ruins along
the West Don stretch, there are actually two sites in question. The
first would seem to be easily-enough dismissed as the remains of an
abandoned basketball court, some distance in from the east bank of
the river. It was likely associated with a nearby day camp and
outdoor education centre, across the Don, which has been in operation
there since the late 1950s. The overrun state and remote location of
the court, however, would suggest that it could have been built and
then quickly forsaken at about that very time, if not earlier. No
trails lead directly to this site any more, which one could easily
miss during the verdant months of the year. Only a strange metal
structure looking something like a double-crossed crucifix, rusting
in a paved clearing on the forest floor, attracts the eye from the
current network of pathways. Closer inspection then reveals the only
hint of what its intended purpose must have been as one notes another
such structure, now barely visible amongst the overgrowth, standing
opposite from the first, with what is presumably its wooden backboard
still somewhat intact.
The second ruin sits just
north and west of the forgotten court, and mostly on the other side
of the West Don — although one will observe stranded bits of rubble
along both banks of the river at this particular site. The main part
of the ruin consists of a tumbledown concrete wall, roughly 2 meters
high and 10 meters in length, consisting of several large block
segments, now almost wholly enveloped by the surrounding forest.
Among the ruins one also finds a fallen rectangular pillar, more
slender in proportion than those found in the Yellow Creek ravine,
but otherwise much the same.
Any relation to the
abovementioned court and/or education centre is decidedly difficult
to suss out, not knowing exactly what the completed structure was in
the first place. Assuming that all are related, however, one must
wonder why both sites were neither maintained nor dismantled, but
essentially left to rot by a still active institution. It is possible
these ruins relate, instead, to the once sprawling Shadowbrooke
Estate, a 40-acre homestead built just north of the education centre,
in 1915, for then Senator Frederic Nicholls. But again, in what way
remains unclear. As for any further relation to the East Don ruins,
we might note that whereas the presumptive East Don "dam"
sits downstream from a location indicative of the eastern Alps —
Ocra Villaway — the West Don ruins sit downstream not only from
the G. Ross Lord Dam and Reservoir, but also from St. Bernard's
Convalescent Hospital, a structural heir of Shadowbrooke named for
that renowned icon of the western Alps, Bernard of Menthon.
Of some additional
interest is the fact that the West Don ruins can be accessed from the
north via Goldfinch Court. At first this name seems a simple play on
both its connecting thoroughfare (Finch Avenue) and a local species
of bird (Spinus tristis). Some, however, may recognize that
the European Goldfinch (Carduelis carduelis) is a highly
emblematic figure in Christian artwork, representing both Christ's
Passion and Resurrection due to its blood-red facial markings and
fondness for thistle seeds (both allusion to the crown of thorns). It
is, in fact, such a common motif that, by 1946, ornithologist Herbert
Friedman could dedicate an entire monograph to The Symbolic
Goldfinch: Its History and Significance in European Devotional Art,
cataloguing some 486 paintings depicting this bird; the more famous
of which includes Da Vinci's Madonna Litta and Raphael's
Madonna and the Goldfinch. Indeed, the bird is most often
shown in scenes of the Madonna and Child as a premonitory symbol
linking Incarnation and Resurrection through the sacrifice of the
Passion.
Now, keeping in mind our
earlier question of why certain ruins have remained (or have been
maintained) in the way that they have, if we were to follow this line
of representational thinking most literally, and take the cruciform
structure at the basketball court for Calvary, one might infer the
ruined wall to stand for part of Herod's third city wall in
Jerusalem, based on the traditional outline of Golgotha. One might
venture another Don/Madonna connection in relation to this site, as
well, while recalling the "virginal" implications of the
East Don's "Tomar," via *to- + *mari-. Here,
we must also recall that our rusting crucifix (another Redcrosse,
perhaps?) is not just one of the traditional variety. This type of
cruciform, with two cross-beams, goes by many names, the most common
of which include the Patriarchal Cross, Bishop's Cross, Metropolitan
Cross, Coss of St. Stephen, Cross of the Archangels, and Cross of
Lorraine. It's origins and original meaning are obscure, though it is
known from at least Roman times and remains a popular image in the
former realms of the Eastern Empire. It is widely assumed that the
extra beam represents the titulus cruces, or "INRI
plaque" which marked Jesus of Nazareth as "King of the
Jews." Meanwhile, more symbolic theories suggest that the two
beams represent Christ's death and resurrection, secular power and
ecclesiastic power, or that all three axes together represent the
Holy Trinity.
That being said, it has
been posited that this type of cross may pre-date any kind of
Christian usage in so far as it likely descends from the ideographic
representation of a shepherd's crook, common throughout the ancient
Near East as a general symbol of rulership. Certain variations of the
runic letter Ansuz, or Os, have been found inscribed
this way, as well, particularly in the Danish "long-branch"
version of the Younger Futhark (and we must note the nearby presence
of a Denmark Crescent, just to the southeast of this site). In
isolation Ansuz was used to denote or invoke a god,
specifically one of the Æsir pantheon in Old Norse
mythology (as opposed to any of the Vanir family, the Æsir's
unearthly rivals). These origins would seem to transcend
Scandinavia and Germanic paganism, though, relating etymologically to
the Avestan ahura and Sanskrit asura deities (who
themselves opposed daevas and suras respectively). In
more modern usage we recognize the twice-crossed vertical line (‡)
as a super-scriptural glyph known as a diesis, or "double
dagger/obelisk," typically used to indicate the third note,
caveat, or editorial remark on a page. We might also recognize that
this particular symbol has been used to denote poison in botany, the
transition state of a reaction in chemistry, white lead in alchemy,
and, in certain styles of notation, a checkmate in chess (perhaps
giving additional meaning to the "Bishop's Cross" of
above).