It snowed overnight. Temperatures will be a handful of degrees below zero all week. By our southern west-coast of BC wussy standards it is cold. It is damp. There is wind. Skiers and snowboarders are happy, and likely high with the news of more snow. An upswing is expected in time for T.G.I.F. of +1 Celsius, daytime temperature.
There will be 5 entire Wednesdays, 5 Thursdays and 5 Fridays in this month of January 2020. This Monday, however, will not come again, nor did it exist before – all bright and shiny and new.
OK. not so sun-shiny, but a new shiny. The snow was not as bright as the wonderland of snow that covered the Prairie winter I grew up in. But our rare west coast city snow was on the grass, the branches, the roof top of the church across the street and all along the hedges. All was calm and steady and the air was totally different – clean and fresh in the truest ‘sense’.
Scraping of shovels against sidewalk pavement woke me. I was irritated by the sound, but happy that later in the day I could maybe walk out on that newly cleared sidewalk, now bared to whatever warmth might come.
There’s a short time between 1:30 and about 4:15 p.m when the wintry surfaces get just tacky enough, just textured enough to give some safety to my walk. Gore-Tex shoes on and all bundled up, I always feel secure with my Nordic walking poles.
I ventured out, sharing smiles with passersby.
I returned like Snow Cinderella fresh from the winter ball.
Like a senior Cinderella due back before the late afternoon light dimmed.
While I could be sure of my footing and read the irregularities and the textures that I tread on. Before the slushy snow sections at the curbs and intersections, and the damp sidewalks got slick and daringly icy again.
At home, the snowy seal of winters past makes it easy to be in for the night. To read. To write and eventually to sleep knowing that my nostalgia for Manitoba winters will be enjoyed for days, not for long months.