For the past several days people everywhere have been chatting energetically about it. The Snowfall Warning continues until daybreak tomorrow. About a week ago there was an early morning frost that resembled a skiff of snow; but today’s forecast is far less ambivalent. Already the harvested field is more defined as the white snow covers the earthly remains of the mutely coloured stalks. Meanwhile the faded stumps protrude from the snow like an army of perfectly aligned constituents. Today’s blast is the first snowfall of the season.
By contrast, the further prediction is that beginning tomorrow and continuing foreseeably for another week, temperatures will be above zero. The snow is therefore expected to melt. Whether the snow will vanish thereafter is not entirely moot. Nor should that seeming equivocation be mistakenly interpreted as an innuendo of personal preference. I am committed to the unfettered theme of the seasons. Not uncommonly one hears those who – perhaps returning from a prolonged subtropical jaunt – assert that they “missed the seasons”. Most recently – because of the sudden sensation of being unwelcome in the United States of America – our decision to remain in Canada has naturally introduced us once again to Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall. I have to say, so far it’s working out just fine. The seasons are a bit like swimming – you never entirely forget. I confess to being oddly amused.
Though the Province of Québec apparently mandates the use of winter tyres during the season, I understand the Province of Ontario has resisted imposing the obligation. My vehicle has “all season tyres” which (conveniently) I interpret as just that; viz., all season. I assume the accreditation has some legitimacy. Not everyone agrees:
No, all-season tires are not as good as winter tires in Canada, especially during harsh winters. While they work for mild conditions, their rubber compound hardens in cold temperatures and their tread is not designed for heavy snow and ice, causing a significant loss of traction. Winter tires are specifically built with a softer rubber that stays flexible in the cold and a deeper, more aggressive tread with special biting edges for superior grip. AI (aka “Hal”)
I have the privilege to avoid “heavy snow and ice”. Age to the rescue! There is nowhere I am in a hurry to go. And when conditions are harsh I prefer remaining in situ until the threat passes. It is one of the few times I am not propelled by impatience. I remind myself too that, even when wintering on Hilton Head Island, I uncharacteristically confined my vehicular sojourns to grocery shopping and back and forth to the car wash. The bicycle was my alternate preference. With the exception of only several occasions over a decade, I never ventured onto the highway until our scheduled departure in the springtime. There certainly was no demonstrable routine. In any event I customarily prefer 4-lane highways not because of the speed, rather because of the ability to “stay out of the way”, ambling patiently along at 100 Km/h with the windows open, mindless of the traffic (which is always passing on the left).
Forgive me, dear Reader for being so painfully introspective about such a mundane subject as the weather. My daily imperative to write “in my diary” compels me to record the detail, not merely because it is apt but also because it noticeably affects my perception of the world. Name me a person who doesn’t refer to the weather! The weather and one’s health are the statutory meat of acceptable social convention and conversation. Having, as we do, the ability to see the horizon from the drawing room windows, nurtured by the winding river plateau, cultivates a singular identification with the weather. And today is Sunday, so for that reason alone one is entitled to waffle at one’s desk unobstructed by any impelling undertaken on the public thoroughfare. Perhaps an espresso à côté? Staring at large flocks of trumpeting Canada goose flying by. Bert Kaempfert performing Orange Coloured Sky?
The best-known version of the song was recorded by Nat King Cole (with Stan Kenton’s orchestra) on August 16, 1950, and released by Capitol Records as catalog number 1184. It first reached the Billboard Best Seller chart on September 22, 1950, and lasted 13 weeks on the chart, peaking at number 11. A number of other singers have recorded it, including Cole’s daughter, Natalie.
It has taken me this long fully to adjust to seasonal living. The fluidity of the ambition has been hindered partly by the necessity to accustom myself to our new and immediate surroundings in a building which, though full of charming and delightful people, is nonetheless predominantly tranquil. This is of course a good thing on one level; but it has diminished the absorption into the new society which continues almost daily to unfold.
Commensurate with any adjustment is the transition to new avenues of pioneering. Whether intentional or merely reactive, the changes broaden one’s scope. I find the alignment with the season enables me more productively to negotiate my way. While it would be absurd to suggest people require seasonal change, as a native northern I feel save in connecting the dots accordingly; it is part of my animal instincts.
My smugness derives in part as well from the current pattern of reconstruction. Foremost has been the latest involvement with family, a devotion I always consider to be paramount. Second has been the blending with the current themes of technological advancement. And thirdly – though by no means of inferior vitality – is my upcoming dental surgery (an extraction) which has the disadvantage of recovery for a period of 2 – 6 months if not indeed triple that elongation. I compliment the surgeon for being so insistent upon a proper period of recovery before installing the cosmetic replacement. Until then I simply have to ensure I stay alive – a merit not completely frivolous when approaching one’s 77th birthday. I have always hoped for a speedy departure when the moment is suitable. Until then however we’re regained a splash and distillation of the old retail affair; the chest of drawers is replete; the future is brilliant!