To the editor,
The Halifax Common is pretty much my favourite Halifax place. Luckily for me, it's in my neighbourhood and I venture past it most every day. When I cross North Park, making my way along Cogswell towards Quinpool heading to the grocery store, Video Difference, Fitness FX, etc., I find serenity in that wide green expanse, in its uninhibited, uninterrupted space.
On days when the turf is relatively dry, I'll definitely leave the dreary concrete of the sidewalk and amble along the soft grass, watching doggies and humans and losing myself to thoughts. That is, until the serenity ended with the autumn arrival of the Rolling Stones.
Yea, verily they did hold audience with their adoring flock, who found themselves well fleeced for the privilege—privateers in a very public space. The duration of the entire musical shebang, after a week of setting up, was roughly six hours. Yet five months later, a shaggy excuse for a chain-link fence still stands in a bent memorial to that hallowed day, surrounding the concert site, rendering fully one-fifth of the park inaccessible to park-goers.
Visually the fence brings to mind a concentration camp; physically, obviously, the fence is a barrier to entry—except where it's collapsed. Just what is up with this? Is this a good idea? Here, I'll reach for the answer—no, it isn't.
By J. Sloat