Taken with iphone 4 on auto – I was standing on the sidewalk trying to keep the bottom of the fence level, not sure if it worked or not. I like the photo just not sure why. It’s not a personal connection – I don’t know anyone who lives in that house or built that fence. It’s not something that I can articulate, it just makes me smile. I love the colour of the wood, the way the sunlight hits it and the clear blue above. I love the way the shadows dance on the wood.
Winter has returned. This is winter in Saskatchewan; Friday I walked outside for over an hour and it felt like spring was just around the corner and today I needed a scarf and longed, once again, for warm underwear.
I could quote temperatures and wind chills but my mind confuses between Celsius and Fahrenheit and which is really, really cold. Really, really cold is impossible to describe. You can only experience it and believe me you don’t want to experience it. Plus, of course, really, really cold is relevant. My Saskatchewan really, really cold does not compare with my sister’s experience of living on a northern Canadian bay in Nunavut really, really cold.
Saskatchewan cold is going to bed with the river flowing, the day warm and waking up to this:
Saskatchewan cold is sledding on Christmas warm and cuddling in front of a fire on New Years Eve because only the brave or foolish go out to party in that darn cold.
Saskatchewan cold is the river frozen solid one day, holes appearing the next, then only half frozen, then a cold snap hits and everything starts freezing all over again!
Saskatchewan winter is living with a tangle of cords everywhere. Electric cords grow over night on the bare streets and in alley ways. Those of us walking have to remember to both look up and down so that we are not tripped or strangled by these strange, new vines.
Saskatchewan winters are ripe with cords. There are electric cords and cords of wood. There are bright yellow, orange and blue electric cords; enough to populate a Dr. Seuss story. Red Cord, Blue Cord, One Cord, Two Cords.
I’m thankful that I don’t have to chop and stack cords of wood the way my grandparents had to. I’m thankful for warmer houses and electric lights, for blankets and library books. Sometimes, I’m even thankful for winter because it gives me the excuse to stay in and do nothing expect read and watch insanely, stupid television shows.
My mother is taking her first holiday south for part of January. I’m not a big fan of too hot so I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to the point of going south every winter.
I’m of hearty stock. I can take everything Winter decides to throw at me. I am from Saskatchewan.
Here, we barbecue on the balcony/deck/in the back yard just to spite Old Man Winter. Here, we enjoy our walks in the park during every season.