Over the weekend, winter bared its teeth, and bit us hard.
How cold was it?
Cold enough to dig out the winter hat I bought in Russia and thought I’d never wear.
Cold enough to actually wear it.
Cold enough for the snow to protest with a high pitched squeak as you drive over it.
Cold enough for frostbite to threaten any sliver of exposed skin.
Cold enough for me.
Remember what sweltering in 34C was like?
Yeah, me neither 🙂
Your walkway is buried under two centimetres of ice, your driveway is a skating rink, and you’re holed up inside waiting for summer.
The snowplow cleared your street by depositing thirty centimetres of frozen slush at the end of your driveway, and you’re booking the first flight to Hawaii.
Endure or escape, those are your only options when Frosty the Ice Man stands in for Mother Nature — or are they?
Cory Hamilton in Saint John, New Brunswick thinks not.
To paraphrase the old proverb, When life hands you lemons…
When Mother Nature throws down the ice, get your skates out 🙂
Remember when piles of white stuff on the ground made you smile, back before snow became a four-letter word? Before the frozen crystals meant winter tires, and icy streets, and double the commute home.
Remember snow angels, and winter forts, and snowball fights?
Most of us growing up in the Great White North don’t remember our first snowfall because snow just is. A part of life, it arrives every year whether you want it to or not.
Newcomers to Canada though, aren’t so blasé about the white stuff.
These two children, newly arrived from a refugee camp in Sudan, couldn’t be happier with the fat flakes falling out of the sky.
Watching them, I can almost … almost be happy about winter 🙂