Spring Sprang Sprung

Edmonton’s long journey towards summer has begun.

Every year we’re subjected to an on-again, off-again, Rachel-and-Ross-esque excuse for a spring. The thermometer will top out at 13 degrees one day (like it did last Friday), only to plunge us into a snowy blender the next.

We’re on the tail end of the mildest winter I can remember—probably the mildest winter that most Edmontonians can remember. And while I do worry about the state of the polar ice caps and the effect this so-called global warming has on them, it was a nice reprieve from the heinous hag that is our usual November-to-May deep freeze.

Observe:

March 2011

March 2012

See the subtle but unmistakeable difference?

This winter, it was really nice to be able to wait five minutes for the bus without having to worry about losing digits. And it was nice to move from point A to point B with minimal trudging. That’s what I really hate about winter—the trudging. The word, so close to “drudgery,” is entirely phonetically apt for describing the action: moving at glacial speed through knee-high drifts, on unshoveled sidewalks, wearing ugly, ugly winter boots, and wrapped so tightly in scarves and toques I can barely turn my head.

Of course, winter does have its charms—namely, the time you don’t spend in it. Finally making it inside, turning on the space heater, brewing tea, watching the storm rage outside. Even better, the winter getaway—that one week per year that Canadians love so much they continue to risk getting shanked in Mexico to enjoy it.

Many people find the topic boring, inane or unbearably safe, but I really love talking about the weather. It’s constant, but always changing, and it’s something we all share. I could spend hours on the topic.

It must be my agrarian roots.