Here on Canada’s west coast, the end of February usually means we are moving into warmer days and spring flowers and away from cold and snow. Usually, we have a few days of snow in early January, and that’s it. But this year, some areas around the lower mainland have had snow on the ground continuously since December. This must be some kind of record for us. And every time I think we’re finally moving on, the temperatures drop again. Even my daughter, who normally loves snow, was dismayed to see snow flakes falling again last night and another soccer practice cancelled.
I woke up this morning to ground covered yet again by a white blanket. However, the sun was out, and after working on my novel for awhile (yes, slow progress is still being made), I braved the lower than normal temperature and went for a walk to visit my favourite tree in my old neighbourhood, a big old sycamore.
The sun had already melted most of the snow on that side of the street, and snowdrops and crocuses spread out around the base of the tree as if they’d spilled from it.
Afterwards, I took the bus downtown to see the “Legacies of Impressionism in Canada” exhibit at the Vancouver Art Gallery. There, deeply snowy Quebec landscapes entitled “March” made me feel a little better about our little bit of February snow.