Listen to thisI am walking with the dog through the neighbourhood. It is minus (yes, I said “minus") 20 degrees Celsius and there are a few feet of snow on the ground. It is stunning. As I walk down the streets I think I am walking through the middle of a Canadian Christmas card. It feels unreal. I am in awe that anything can be so beautiful. Everywhere I look there is fresh sparkle as the moonlight catches the frozen world.
Later I am talking to my friends who live in a different (and warmer) country. I tell them it is minus 20 and there are a few feet of snow on the ground. They think it must be horrible. “It will soon be over", they say. “Not too soon, I hope", I reply. Years ago I would have agreed with their wish.
When I was a kid growing up, we seldom saw snow and cold like this. When it did come, as it will occasionally when you live in Canada, it was a rare and exciting event.
Short lived but special. Now it is an annual occurrence. We expect it here in Quebec. We anticipate it. And yes, sometimes we even welcome it. For when the snows come, the world changes. The autumn red of the maple leaves is long gone. The golden grasses of late summer are buried. The green of spring and summer are but fond memories. Mighty trees bow under the weight of the snow. The world is painted in a soft pristine white beauty and draped in wonder.
It’s all a matter of perspective. What you get used to. What you learn to like. What you eventually accept as a part of your world. Winter in Canada is an adjustment, but a recurring one. Anticipated. Surprising. Stunning. Delightful. I walk the same road I walked with my friend in the fall. He was stunned then. I am stunned now. Each season paints its own picture.
As I walk I pass people out enjoying the evening, houses lit for the holidays, footprints left by others who walked, enjoyed and then disappeared in to the warmth of their homes. The world is cold but filled with life, and life passages. I am struck by the privilege of this experience.
But it is only this amazing because I am willing to let it be so. I could experience it as harsh, unwelcoming, cold, savage, ugly. I could be sad, bored, angry, waiting for it to end. But then it would be a long winter. It is a matter of choice. The outcome of a decision made. As the dog and I walk through this wonderland, I am aware that life is filled with the opportunity to realise an attitude towards the things we encounter and I am pleased that I discovered this perspective.
The dog doesn’t think about it. She just enjoys the walk. I try to copy her.
Thom
