First Snow

They say that every snowflake is different. If that were true, how could the world go on? How could we ever get up off our knees? How could we ever recover from the wonder of it? - Jeanette Winterson

Winter has finally arrived. It's been cold enough, but i'm one of those old fashionistas thats believes it doesn't arrive until the first snow. It's the only season that announces itself with an exclamation point.

We were supposed to get upwards of 10 inches, but as I look out the window beside my desk I see about 3, and I do feel somewhat burned. The rains are on the horizon and soon my winter wonderland will be directed to the storm sewers. I took my walk through the neighborhood last night to ensure my Christmas light tour commitments were fulfilled for the year. I'm sorry, but Christmas lights without snow are meaningless. And Vancouver only ever offers a fleeting glimpse.

I do really miss the snow, but it's the price we pay, there is no way I can deal with the cold, especially with my social locale's. I grew up in London which is the epicenter of snow for North America. It wasn't unusual to be snowed in there for at least a day a year. We went down to Florida once for three weeks and came home to find the house buried. The neighbors kept a path clear to the front door, but that was it, the snow came 3/4's of the way up the windows on the house, about five feet, amazing. We would clear the drive with a snow blower, and normally the banks on the side of the drive would be upwards of ten feet high. My snow forts would be so elaborate, they would become urban legend. I'm certain there are a couple of old men that sit in front of the General Store in the summer, smoking their corn cob pipes, whittleling on their rocking chairs arm, talking about the Frank Lloyd Wright of the snow fort world.

In Calgary, we lived on Lake Bonaventure. Amazing this time of year. It is actually a community bylaw that you have to install Christmas lights, not just on the front of the house, but the back as well. People spend thousands, and we're not talking about that multicolor junk either. Yellow lights for Christmas, sheesh, what are you people thinking? The whole lake would be made into a skating rink and you could do laps looking at all the lights. I would do this for hours, mostly because even though my parents had invested enormous amounts of money teaching me how to skate, I had never learned how to stop. I would have to skate around until I found an appropriate snow bank around my house that I could throw my body into. They didn't need to have instant replay when I played hockey, if I was in the net, you could bet the puck was too.

What I always liked about the snow the most was the silence. I don't know what it is, if the snow itself just muffles sound, or just because people aren't outdoors, but there is no time more quiet than just after a fresh snow. You can hear every crinkle of flakes under your shoe.

I'm off to Toronto for the week, so i'm sure i'll be fed up with snow by the time I get back, but we'll see.

I'll be off the air for the week, so i'll leave you with a little Francis Bacon.

Begin doing what you want to do now: We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand, and melting like a snowflake.