In lieu of my yearly saunter down into the Don Valley to take snaps of the changing colours of the leaves, I decided instead to do something a little different. Me and a friend climbed over 50 floors in order to gain a more holistic view of fall in Toronto.

As opposed to my usual spread for the season -- macro shots of the red, yellow and green hues, with the usual smattering of twigs, branches and joggers in the background -- I was able instead to appreciate the not-so-greenery from an incredible height.

Haunted places are in vogue this time of year, so with Halloween fast approaching, I thought I'd share some of the beautiful yet terrifying abandoned places I've visited recently.

The longer a place rests unused and unseen, the more mysterious the items inside become; the longer the interval between being lost and found, the more imagination one must employ to create a story surrounding it. Since time distorts what it cannot destroy, even the items that remain in an abandoned building seem strange, out of place, and uncanny.

Telling stories about such objects becomes necessary, then, as the human mind refuses to accept total abandonment: we insist on furnishing an imagined genealogy for the orphaned objects that cross our paths.

In a way, ghost stories can be read as metaphors for the feelings that these objects and places evoke. Although they may be dismissed as mere superstition, I believe that on some level they reflect our imagination's need to see life in the lifeless.

Ever since I was a small child, when a trip to downtown Toronto seemed such a glorious affair, I have been drawn to the Canada Life building at Queen and University. Built in 1931, with its beckoning weather beacon installed in the early 50s, it serves as headquarters to Canada's oldest insurance company. Since its creation, a hideous modernist complex was erected to house the expanding organization just West, creating a very interesting contrast with the beautiful old building.

Compared to what has arisen in the city since, the 320-foot tall structure may not seem such a giant, yet it still offers a very impressive and unique view of the area just north of the business district.

There are few things in our built environment quite as sad as abandoned houses... such as downtown Toronto's George Street Thomas Meredith House.

Anyone familiar with the area around Thomas Meredith House is aware of its degeneration over the past few decades, and unlike some, I do not believe in revitalization in the form of poutine. Even so, this rough area is home to some truly hidden gems (no, not Filmore's).

For those of you who've experienced an uneasy feeling when witnessing massive machinery clawing down a derelict or historic building and thought, "gee, I wish someone could have saved that," allow me to introduce you to the amazing work at the Willowbank School of Restoration Arts.

Having just graduated the first class in their 3-year program, the school - despite the age of the main estate - is still very young. With only a small handful of students at the institution (of varying ages), low tuition, and a general philosophy that hands-on work is as important as theory, Willowbank is truly one of the most beautiful and unique (if somewhat esoteric) post-secondary institutions I've ever visited. The school itself is one of their major projects!

People-watching in Toronto's Yorkville neighbourhood is the pastime of many. One can sit for hours observing the glamorous shops and their patrons, trying to pick out the rich and famous.

I, however, prefer to watch buildings. We chose this particular spot that day not because of the glitz and glamor, but rather because of the richness of vision it offered. I am rarely in this particular neighbourhood, so I found it rather enjoyable to place myself above it - and its people - if only for a few hours.