the snow drifts from here to there

As a child, living in Australia, the snow fascinated me, because in the area I lived, we just didn't get any - EVER.

My Grandma was from England, and as a little girl, all I knew about England was that it was far away, it was green and it was cold - but I also imagined loads of snow all over England during the winter - she was from Devon, down south, probably one of the milder parts of the UK.

I remember my Grandma showing me a picture of herself as a girl. I loved photographs even back then. I loved that I could connect with the past that way and I know I asked many questions. I remember badgering my Grandma to see that photo all the time when a child. But my memory is now fuzzy about its details of that picture, and I fear that its memory is in fact filled with images gathered from the conversations I had with her about her life in England, because I remember the photo depicting her standing on a roadside waiting for her school bus in the snow - but I don't think this was actually the case. I think it was a picture of her standing along a roadside and she had told me that she took that route to school - by bus or by foot I am not quite sure now. I know I asked her about the snow and remember feeling a little disappointed when she said that she could remember it snowing only a few times. I guess I imagined all sorts of fantasies about the snow and wanted her to fill me up with grand stories of winters with snow up to the window sills and having to dig oneself out of the house each morning; snow men and snowball fights and a crackling raging fire to warming her up afterward while she sipped hot cocoa with the wind howling outside.

Well now I have my own snowy memories and photos abound, and for the most part I have enjoyed it while it has lasted. It is going the rapid melt now as the temperatures rise above freezing again - it got down to -18 Tuesday night, which is dangerously low - skin freezes in minutes at -20.

However interesting and captivating the snow was for me, looking out my front window, I have actually been held captive for much of this week, since I am without car.

Ashley drives a Ford Mustang, which failed to live up to the power and durability that the name Mustang might suggest, but nevertheless, we have lived, and have still been able to observe the great white world outside. Among my observations I have noticed the numerous birds. Normally I don't see many, they seem to hide in the wet, and last year there seemed to be a constant stream of rain from November to April. But with clear skies, trees discarded of their foliage and the contrast of gleaming white, the birds and their constant activity became apparent for all to see.

The Blue Jays and Robins stood out along with the ever present chickadees and local crows. But I also saw a Wood Pecker - I hadn't seen one before, so I was very happy about that, even if he were beating out a hole in our tree - I forgave him! The activity of the birds was really quite amazing -flitting from tree to tree and branch to branch, and never once upsetting the glob of snow teetering precariously on the end of an already strained branch.

The sound of the icy crunch reminded me of documentaries I had seen of Ant arctic explorers traipsing through the ice. Never would I have thought to know what that was like from my own experience...in my own town, the silence and the crack and crumble of ice and snow under foot - to slip of black ice and fall flat on my behind - very cartoonish. To feel cliched to make hot chocolate for the kids after they had come in from outside.

I shovelled the drive with joy and determination this week- like I felt I was part of something...what was it? ....connecting with the community by experiencing an aspect of northern living I think?

The heavily pregnant woman across the road has been frantically shovelling snow all week. While everyone seems horrified at the sight of this "poor woman" who "should be resting", she is already two days overdue and is just trying to hurry the baby along...although without success as yet, but her drive is the clearest in the neighbourhood, so her efforts have not been ALL in vain!

Another girl passes our place on her way home from school. Each day this week, she has managed to carry home with her, a large dagger of an icicle. I wonder what she does with them?I suspect they go into her parents deep freeze in the garage.

The only real regret I have is not being able to get out for a drive and see more of my surrounding while covered in the white veil. The snow momentarily transforms all into glorious shapes. I also wonder what the landscape will look like after the big melt. We have already seen one of our own large trees be forever changed by the cold and unforgiving conditions, and I have noticed another large shrub in the yard either under considerable strain from the extra weight bearing down on its limbs or broken in several places. I dread to think what our lawn is like - it didn't take too well after all that work we did over the summer...oh well, the foundation remains to begin anew next spring.

While many of the locals are complaining about the inconveniences brought on by Sundays snowstorm, especially those with kids and jobs to juggle, I won't mind too much if it snows again. For me it is an opportunity to allow the collision of past and present, this generation and that, and also fantasy and reality, so a better understanding can be got through practical and personal experience. Who knows, one day my own children might be showing their Grandchildren the pictures of themselves playing in the snow and filling them up with stories of snowball fights and hot chocolate on cold and blustery evenings.