The past few weeks have been a very stimulating and challenging time for Victoria's mild weather accustomed residents. A shocking blow for survival has hit us as we battled wind snow, freezing cold,slippery ice and frost.
Though housebound most of the time I loved it all-the lashing stinging whips of wind and snow across my vibrantly reddened cheeks; the painfully cold fingertips inside my gloves; the moist air trapped in my swaddling wool scarf around my mouth and nose all reminded me of my childhood in the winters of middle Alberta. I spent a fair amount of time looking out of my balcony window watching the struggling pedestrians crossing the car park and noticing their makeshift winter apparel. These are not savvy Albertans with their parkas and snow boots nor are they suave Montrealers with their fur hats and sophisticated fur trimmed coats- think Pierre T. No, these marine climate creatures are wearing light, skin tight parkas in vibrant colours and sophisticated black leggings or jeans. One imaginative man even wore leggings and shorts. Scarves were wound round and round necks and all wore impractical boots or colourful running shoes.
This of course took me back in time to when I was a young child. I remembered my beloved head covering -called a parka-it was brown with a small red trim and a tiny embroidered flower . It tied firmly under the chin and peaked into a pompom. It was incredibly cozy. My shoe coverings were in felt up to almost the knees with clip closures. Mittens were hand made by my grandmother and were connected with string down the sleeves and the scarf also hand knit was long and usually wet. Of course we all wore long underwear and ribbed stockings. I don't know how we managed to dress and get to school on time. When we finally got to school our poor teacher spent the first hour unraveling us all-the encrusted scarves ,the wet overshoes and soaking outer trousers. My school was in the country and most of the children walked several miles to school and were frozen solid by the time they got there.
There is no doubt that in a deep freeze there is time for reflection nostalgia and musings [unless we are shoveling snow}and of course creativity. Perhaps this is why so much good music comes from northern climates. The long winters stimulates melancholic reflections. I have just listened to a wonderful piano piece by the Norwegian composer Grieg in which he expresses deep grief for his dead parents. This piece could only have been composed in the deep depth of winter.
I too painted a dark piece-that could only be painted in forced solitude in winter. But now we are back to a milder climate with clouds and rain and it is time to put away scarves and mittens and pull out the trustworthy rain proof, our galoshes and umbrella. Also it is time to become more lighthearted and to socialize again. Time to call your friend for a coffee and a gossip. The time for in depth reflections in dark cold evenings is over. The time for dark creativity is over too . It is also time to lightheartedly blogg. So my dear bloggers. congratulate yourselves for surviving the challenges of winter and gird yourself for spring peaking around the corner. My local supermarket is already shamelessly displaying chocolate Valentine boxes.
In closing,a prairie friend of mine wrote to me during this freezing spell reminiscing about his childhood in Saskatchewan when he spent hours standing at the window watching the blizzards through frost encrusted windows and feeling so cozy in the warmth of the kitchen. I too used to stand for hours in the dining living room area
-tracing with my fingers the leaf like designs of the frost coating the windows-I can still
feel the texture and coldness as I traced them and I
probably felt cozy too but don't recall that so much. But I do remember the quiet and the meditative quality while tracing the frosts. This remembering was enough to inspire me to finally write a blogg.
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