The weather was colder than usual this December, so the Christmas landscape had a Narnia-esque feel: brittle, white, still. Hoar frost on the trees, so lace everywhere. Too cold to do much outside, but pretty to look at through the window.
I took some time off work over the holidays, but was back at it last week. I walk to the office, which is a half-hour trek up to the New Town, and then back home again at the end of the day. People seem to admire the fact I do this all year round, even in the middle of winter. In fact, I would much rather pile on the snow pants and parka and trudge up the Franklin Avenue hill than try to manage a car at 30 below.
For several months I make this commute in the dark - in mid-winter we only get about four hours of daylight, from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m., or so. But yesterday morning, there was a sign that spring is on its way: when I left the house, instead of the usual blackness, there was a line of light along the horizon, topped with a band of turquoise that deepening upward into sapphire blue. So, less than a month since the solstice, it's apparent the days are getting longer.
(Photo: Ice fog rising toward Yellowknife's New Town, taken from the ice of Yellowknife Bay, January 3, 2009.)
3 comments:
In my own part of the world, we wore shirt sleeves on Christmas Day and shorts on New Year's. This is not normal, mind you.
Over the past nights, before the fog which is our winter theme descended again, the moon lit up the ground with reflections from its silvery platter, fatter and rounder than one would think possible.
Here, too, there are signs of light.
Hey, Robley.
When I watch TV news in mid-winter, I notice more and more that many spots in southern Canada don't have snow as Christmas approaches. I really can't imagine anything other than a white Christmas, yet your description of Tennesse sounds very pretty.
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