Fingerprints in the window

There's a line in my song 'Peddlin' Poppies' about a blacksmith. That's what I once dreamed of being.

I've loved a few blacksmith shops over the years, but the one that really stole my heart is this one: W. Cadieux, Blacksmith, long abandoned, but still standing in the middle of downtown Montreal.

I discovered it about 15 years ago with my buddy Amahl Hazelton. All the equipment was still inside, covered with a layer of black coal dust and waiting to be hammered back into shape. I used to lie awake at night in my Montreal apartment thinking about how I'd fix this place up and get it running again like the old days.

Long after we'd both moved away, Amahl sent me a snapshot of the place, out of the blue. It was a good gift, a timely one. It's in a drawer in my tool chest still.

Over the years, I've often swung by on my frequent trips to Montreal, hoping against hope they haven't turned the old shop into condos, or worse, a parking lot.

Recently Amahl sent me these new photos, with the caption "our fingerprints are still in the window."

I've had too many dreams for them all to come true, but this is one I at least got close enough to touch.