Winter Ballet

I needed to go to the bank.

My landlord, for some unknown and probably not a good reason, demands cash for rental payment. Carless, I headed out for the long walk to the bank. 

A cold breeze snapped at my face like a wet towel at the beach, bringing a blush of color to my cheeks. It's long fingers reached into my coat looking for any breach in it's protection. It was cold. It was darn cold.

I felt exhilarated.

The cold brought my tired soul to life. I sucked the crisp air deep into my lungs and walked along briskly.  Snow boots protected my feet and I trudged through the snow with feet warm and snug in pillow soft comfort.

Hatless, I enjoyed the freedom of my hair blowing in the wind. It fit my mood, giving me a sense of independence. Man, or in this case woman, against nature, on an equal basis.

Leaving the protected sidewalks which were buffered by homes and high rise buildings, I walked along the lake shore, watching ice thick waves slapping encrusted shores.  

Living at the western end of Lake Ontario where the lake narrows as it curves, the distant shores are usually visible across the water. Usually it was a dark horizon caught between two blues. But not today.

Today everything was grey in fifty shades and more. The words "lake effect snow" had meaning now as I watched a storm pirouette over the lake water. It's fringe was edged a white grey but it's center was a charcoal swirl. The storm twirled away from the distant shore heading due east, in complete unrestricted abandon.

As I walked I encountered others strolling in the sunshine and cold. I smiled at each and said hello... happy new year... good day! Some smiled and responded back while others seemed startled as they emerged from intense, internal worlds. Others gruffly mumbled a reply, looking down to avoid personal contact while they hurried on.

I reached the bank, entered, and with accounts settled, headed home. Outside the storm had moved closer to shore. It now skimmed the shoreline very close by. I could almost touch it's grey damask. The sun disappeared and snow streamed in ribbons of white. 


The wind tore at my coat and lashed my face. My skin stung with the sharpness of the cold and with tiny ice pellets. The freedom of a hatless head was now regretted.

As suddenly as it came, the storm reversed and twirled due south to center lake. Here the dark grey mass twirled as it blithely crossed international borders at will. Then, just as suddenly, it raced back.

I huddled deep within the hood of my coat and bent myself to face the wind, right arm raised to keep the hood from blowing off. Gone were the greetings to passersby, everyone too deep into the business of keeping warm to acknowledge others. 

The frigid lashings were endured, block after block. Everything was a blur of white. At last I reached the safe haven of home.

As I opened the door to my building, the sun appeared once more. The storm was gone. Hummingbird like it hovered only a moment here and there in it's perpetual dance. Sometimes it raged in a primitive dark harmony, sometimes it danced lightly over the water and sometimes it tickled the land in delicate delight. Never in one place long, forever on the move but always performing nature's winter ballet.
 


 

Thanks Mom

This morning my world changed.

Last evening I went to bed in the grey world of early winter. Gone were the brilliant leaves of fall, the beds of flowers, the soft breezes of summer. Last night I went to sleep in a world of drab.

I awoke to a brightness in my room. A shimmering light that was pleasant but unfamiliar. Intrigued I climbed out of the warm comfort of my bed and went to the window. A sea of white stretched as far as I could see.

It was beautiful.

A thick blanket of snow had, and was still, falling. Big flakes cascade from the sky. Six inches have fallen but enough to change the construction site next door into a world of mysterious shapes. Enough to change the rusted garbage dumpster into an intriguing vision of beauty. Enough to change the drab of my world into a winter wonderland.

The wind came. Weaving its way between the apartment buildings of my complex and whipping snow into streams of frozen torrent. My basement windows now peered out at a world of whirling white. Visibility reduced to almost nothing yet the bright glow remained in my room.

I made coffee and with a steaming cup in my hand sat on the edge of my bed to watch the storm unfurl. Chilled I wrapped an afghan over my shoulders and slowly sipped the warming brew.

The dancing flakes and whirling streams were beautiful. Mesmerising. Entrancing. Delighting.

I turn on the TV for news, watching national reporters tell of the large storm in the east. They show snow in various places with promise of more. Yet my nearby American neighbor Buffalo only calls for 4 inches. I laugh at how misleading it all is. The city of Buffalo may have missed a direct hit but the areas around it had been having heavy snow for several days. To the south of the city they already had 44 inches on the ground, all thanks to lake effect snow.

Yet the people of New York state love it. Born and bred winter people, they prepare to celebrate the season with skiing, snowmobiles and skates. I wondered if we, neighbors to the north and only a few miles aways would do the same.

So I sat and watched. Thinking and remembering winters long gone, of snow storms past. Of family gatherings while waiting each one out. Of being snug and safe and seeing Nature do her worst or her best depending on point of view.

Sadly the snowfall lightened and finally stopped. The magic moment of watching flakes drift to the ground was now gone. Yet the huge piles of white remained, virginal, untouched as yet by any hand human or animal. So beautiful, so pristine.

I rushed to dress and head out. I wanted to be the first to leave my mark in the snow. Too old for snow angles, I could however, leave my tracks anyway. I searched for warm clothes... looking urgently for thick warm socks. I found a pink one, a blue one, a two-tone one, a black one... I found one of every color but not two. Giving up I put on a turquoise sock and the other pink knowing a matching set remained hidden from sight.

Now out in the cold, I frolicked in the white wilderness. A squirrel scolds from above, a crow caws but few people are here to play. I feel energized and excited and with cold hands take photos to capture the moment. Nature has given me a gift and others too if only they choose to look at this way. It is a beautiful moment courtesy of Mother Nature.

Thanks mom.

The Canadian Way, Eh!

Want to laugh... or cry about government? Canadians will cry, everyone else... will laugh.

The Canadian government has officially decided to stop delivering mail. Yes that is correct, you heard right (or rather read right.) If you want your mail you will have to go get it.

By now I'm sure the bulk mail people have picked themselves up off their many floors and the disposal people have ordered extra large trash bins for the post offices and the Internet people have finished the champagne but for the average person it means you must now make that extra effort to get your bills cause nobody writes letters these days.

How nice to be forced to travel to get your mail. Such a thrill to fight traffic and pay for Canadian gas which averages about $5.20 a US gallon. For me it's a bus trip and a cost of $7 bucks to do so. Do I really want those bills that much? I must give this some thought... hmmmmm how can I spin this so when those collectors call and I can still say it's in the mail? Can I deduct the cost of travel from the bill?

Of course in these rather hard times and high unemployment rates, the fact that 8,000 postal employees just delivered their own pink slips hasn't fazed the government at all. They (the government) will be saving money on the postal service BUT since jobs are few these days, those savings will increase social services demand by 8,000. It is after all, a numbers game.

On paper the government looks good but then we all know that most governments are better on paper than in real life. Here is a thought. Maybe the government should invest in a public relations and marketing service. Maybe they could hire Rob Ford as a consultant or even a spokesperson since he single-handedly put Toronto on the map. I don't think there is a place on this planet that hasn't heard of the city by the lake, thanks to Mr. Ford.

Maybe too, the government might consider Crack and Booze as a way of improving job performance and since the Canadian government is so rocked with scandal these days, maybe... just maybe... a TV series could be crafted from it all. Reality TV Canadian style eh!

Canadians are so numbed by government intruding in their lives that this new change will hardly be noticed. Maybe the government actually has stock in cable... that would explain all these changes. Hmmmmmm I do believe that there are overseas orders going in, God forbid we send business to a Canadian plant,  for Canadian logo-ed government suits with extra large pockets and for smaller faux beaver hats to fit small Canadian heads.

Yet with all adversity there comes opportunity and opportunities abound with this government decision.

Unemployed workers could start computer security companies since everyone will be forced to online banking. Getting a statement from the bank is difficult enough and not often timely with the present system... but then whose fault will it be if you discover your account was emptied weeks after it happened, all because you didn't pick up your mail. Banks could seriously increase revenue with fees for new improved notices to this effect.

Maybe all this will drive up cyber crime as the unemployed become more creative in their job searches. Canadians are nothing if not creative... we did after all think to combine beer and hockey with police camera surveillance of all roads outside stadiums.

Maybe those same unemployed postal carriers could form a new company called Post Eh! Patterned after Fed-Ex/UPS and actually deliver mail to a person's door!!!! What a concept! Oh, wait a minute... we have that now... or had that.

But then some government official would say that too much money was being made from this service and find ways to tax it. Oh look... a new delivery tax on letters! Hey don't we have that now? Did I mention that the cost to mail a local letter will go to almost $1 buck?

Enlightened government would suggest that too much was being spent on salaries and suggest ways to cut the work force using drones instead. Imagine little hovering devices outside your doors and windows... delivering all those flyers, toss newspapers, pizza coupons... and maybe taking a picture or two as they do.

How Canadian! Multi-tasking... keeping the watchful eye of Big Beaver where it needs to be, peeking in your bedroom window. How Canadian to make money by doing so.

Too bad Canadian ingenuity can't invent a drone to replace government officials... but I'm sure it would only give them more time for holidays at our expense. After all don't we have a treaty or something to supply Cuba with escapees from winter?

It's the Canadian way Eh!