Winter Wonders

Hoarfrost

Sure, it looks pret­ty.

Frosted tree

You’ll get no argu­ment from me.

Winter Wonderland

But the night before, dri­ving down the Trans-Cana­da High­way in fog dense enough that I could­n’t see the lights of Bran­don from one kilo­me­ter away, I was­n’t think­ing of the beau­ty of hoar­frost. I was think­ing, pray­ing real­ly, “Just let us get home.”


Jewish Pastry

Also: The rugelach (or Jew­ish Pas­try) turned out just fine.

Stormy

We had a big ol’ storm roll through last night. Severe thun­der­storm warn­ing from Envi­ron­ment Cana­da, unend­ing flick­er­ings to the west and north, the whole she­bang. I wish I’d tak­en my cam­era with me when I went to pick Kath­leen up from work; the light­ning show peaked while I was wait­ing in the park­ing lot, read­ing Wiz­ard and Glass (which is anoth­er sto­ry), and I have to say, it was amaz­ing. 10:30 at night, and there were moments when the world lit up like it was day­time. Once we were head­ed home, there was a moment, as we approached the lights for our left turn, that the row of pines that stand across 18th Street from the flood­plain Cor­ral Cen­tre were back­lit by what looked sus­pi­cious­ly like a strobe light. The light­ning was intense, con­sis­tent, reg­u­lar, and plen­ti­ful.

Once we got home, I grabbed the cam­era, hop­ing to be able to cap­ture some cool images, but the light­show had fad­ed in favour of a brief but tor­ren­tial down­pour. Accord­ing to the weath­er chan­nel, we got about 20mm of rain last night, but it only rained for maybe half an hour.

I tried any­way to get some shots of the light­ning, but it seems our lit­tle cam­era was­n’t up to the task. It’s great for snap­shots, but I don’t think it’s meant for low light shoot­ing. Oh well.…

It must be spring

I got a stone in my san­dal tonight, and there’s a sign of spring right there–I can wear san­dals. I can wear san­dals at 9 o’clock at night, and shorts and a t‑shirt, and not wish I’d put on more clothes before I left the house.

There were some gor­geous sun­set colours in the sky tonight, like it had been paint­ed in can­dy-floss hues, and there’s a smell of burn­ing leaves that speaks at once of spring and autumn. There are buds on the trees, there’s green in the lawn, and there’s bar­be­cued burg­er in my bel­ly. There’s mud in my dri­ve­way, dan­de­lions in the grass, and geese in the Ducks Unlim­it­ed ponds (pho­tos lat­er). I rode my bike for an hour today and remem­bered again why I pre­fer cycling over run­ning. Must get out and do more of it. Espe­cial­ly now that spring is here.

It’s my favourite of all the sea­sons, and not just because my birth­day falls on its first day.

And now, I’m off to write for a bit.

In like a lion

March 1st

…even­tu­al­ly.

They’ve been call­ing for heavy snow­fall all day. Warn­ing about it since last night. It final­ly start­ed at about ten to one this after­noon, just as I was get­ting ready to go back to work.

I snapped this shot from my office, through the win­dow, look­ing out on the park­ing lot and the entrance to the Music Build­ing. At one point there was enough snow in the air that I could bare­ly make out those trees (not the big pine on the right, the naked ones about a hun­dred feet out).

My par­ents, who had been plan­ning to stop in at my place on their way to vis­it my sis­ter in Cal­gary, have decid­ed not to come. I think that’s wise.