winter has arrived

This afternoon, in my Kitsilano rubber boots, the ones with pink and green swirls on a black background, I went outside to heft a shovel over my shoulder and check that the drains outside our house were draining and the ditches outside our property were, well, ditching. I do own much more utilitarian boots - plain black rubber, solid footbed, thick sole - suited to serious garden and outdoor work. But today's objective didn't include serious work, simply a quick check to make sure we wouldn't soon be driving up our property value with the addition of an indoor swimming pool. 

Besides, I don't often get a chance to wear my Kits rubber boots these days so I was happy to get out in them. They were fine for walks to the beach on rainy days, but if I'm going to be a serious farmer, I must wear serious farm boots. Swirly pink and green fairly scream city newbie and I'm already worried that we leave a wake of people shaking their heads behind us. And so, my Kits boots usually venture only as far as our property line, and only when I'm alone and not contemplating any serious work that might put a scratch in the paint, so to speak.

Boots on, I headed out to survey the winter scene. And Old Man Winter has indeed come to Metchosin. Local media are reporting an accumulation of 41 cm of snow, more than is currently measured at the North Pole. Given the amount of snow, my first concern (after the issue of the  indoor swimming pool) was the safety of the locals. So, first stop was a quick check on one of them. He seemed happy enough, despite being up to his armpits in snow.

The next local I visited also seemed to be faring well, perhaps too well. Such a hardy critter will surely be unfazed by any attempts on our part to protect our newly-sprouting veggies come spring time. This is one well-fed looking long-ears. All I can say is that his lucky rabbit's feet are working for him. If we weren't a couple of vegetarians, his days would be numbered.

I continued to crunch along, breaking through the frozen crust of the snow. Even before I got to the ditches I could hear the water flowing. No need for the shovel over my shoulder. Since temperatures have risen in the last few days, the melt has started but, fortunately, water seems to be flowing in the right direction. 

A quick visit to the seasonal pond was next. It has been appropriately seasonal and filled up. I would never have imagined in summertime that this grassy expanse could possible form a pond. But, there it is, complete with an island in the middle. The ice on its surface is now reduced to a few slushy flows drifting in the current, but last week in the middle of this snowy period, it was a postcard scene waiting for the camera to arrive.

Environment Canada is predicting a warm, wet stretch over the next while. Does this mean that spring is soon to make an arrival and that we won't see any more of this?

Or this?

There's lots to be said for seeing the snow go. It's difficult to get around, the boys can't get out so easily (and it takes forever to get them ready to go out) and the cat gets cabin fever and starts chewing on us. 

In some ways, though, I'll miss the snow. The quiet that falls with the flakes and blankets us in its embrace. The shock of pressing a warm nose to a cold window pane and watching the snow disappear in a fog of breath. The snuggle of two small boys in flannel pajamas when they crawl into our bed on a dark morning and knowing that it's another day of hot chocolate and popcorn and games.

If Old Man Winter wants to stay a bit longer, that's okay. Besides, it would give me a chance to wear my Kitsilano boots again.