Winter weather

We have been hit by really really cold weather to start off the week after being buried under a prodigious amount of snow on the weekend after being teased by clement spring-like weather last week. The set-back is disheartening to say the least. It feels more like January than March around here but I rest in the hope that March, having come in like the lion, may begin acting like the lamb soon and that spring is really just around the corner.

But there have been good points to this cold-snap: it is beautiful outside and I am able to look to my heart's content while not having to be out there. Also being cosy inside while it is bright and sunny outside has invigorated me and I have given my room a thorough cleaning (right down to the papers on my desk!) from which I am hoping it will not recover for some time.


Hopefully the thermometer will decide to rise a few degrees before the weekend and our trip to the sugar bush with the internationals. It sounds like it'll be a great time but there's nothing like bad weather to dampen spirits (some of whom may not be used to braving cold weather) venturing into it.

But while we are still in the mood and context for it, here is a poem with a perfect description of wandering alone in the Canaidan winter landscape until after dark (as only a Canadian is able to describe properly):

Winter Uplands
The frost that stings like fire upon my cheek,
The loneliness of this forsaken ground,
The long white drift upon whose powdered peak
I sit in the great silence as one bound;
The rippled sheet of snow where the wind blew
Across the open fields for miles ahead;
The far-off city towered and roofed in blue
A tender line upon the western red;
The stars that singly, then in flocks appear,
Like jets of silver from the violet dome,
So wonderful, so many and so near,
And then the golden moon to light me home--
The crunching snowshoes and the stinging air,
And silence, frost and beauty everywhere.
-Archibald Lampman