Quintessentially Canadian

Snow collecting on the hockey net.

February fourth was my favourite kind of snowy day -- one of those days where the snow drifts gently from the sky like eiderdown, collecting in delicate, lacy blankets. As my daughter, Emily, left for school that morning, she called back to me, "This is a perfect day for taking pictures!" How could I resist that admonition?

So, when it was time to take Kane for his walk, I grabbed my camera and watched the big clusters floating down.

(Yes, I made this gif. Next time I'll use a tripod.)

The roads were a mess, but we didn't have to drive anywhere. And everyone was inside staying warm and dry, so we had the world to ourselves.

The path across from our house. (A liminal space!)

When there is no wind, the snow just gathers like dandruff on the boss's jacket.

Okay, maybe that was a rather clunky comparison. How about, like snow on a pine bough?

I felt so quintessentially Canadian as I walked by the hockey rink.

This is part of our world.

The snow-covered ice explains why there was no one playing a game. Usually, there are at least a handful of people slapping a puck around.

I just love how delicately the snow balanced on the net.

Even the picnic pavillion had a certain glamour in the snow.

We didn't take a long walk that day -- it was hard slogging in the soft, deep snow -- but I am glad we were out in it.

We love to complain about winter weather, but it really is magical, impossible to describe to someone who has never seen it.