The Heights LaSalle
As winter slowly loosens its grip on Montreal, the neighborhoods start to breathe again. In Ville LaSalle—specifically in the area affectionately known as The Heights—Parc Ménard stands quietly, waiting. These photographs were taken at the tail end of the winter season, when the snow begins to melt but the courts remain untouched, frozen in time. There’s something both beautiful and frustrating about this in-between moment. You can hear the birds return, feel the sun stretching a little longer into the evening, but the asphalt is still too cold, too slick, too stubborn to welcome back our sneakers.
For those of us who grew up here, this park isn’t just a patch of green in the middle of the city—it’s where we learned how to hoop, how to talk trash, how to win, and maybe more importantly, how to lose. It’s where our summers came alive, where friendships were made and rivalries were born. And even though we’ve gotten older, the urge to return never fades. Every March, we walk past these empty courts and feel that itch—just a few more weeks, maybe days, until we can call “next” again.
These photos aim to capture that feeling. The calm before the chaos. The stillness before the swish. The quiet tension of waiting. You’ll see familiar backboards framed by leafless trees, benches still covered in frost, and shadows that hint at the life soon to return. It’s a visual love letter to a park that has shaped so many of us, and a reminder that spring isn’t just about flowers blooming—it’s about courts reopening.
So as we impatiently wait for warmer days, we hold onto these images like memories—and like promises. We’ll be back soon, Parc Ménard. The Heights is ready.
