Never
have we so closely watched the weather as this winter and spring (or
“sprinter,” as my daughter affectionately called it). And we watch the weather very closely in
Saskatchewan.
While
it's not as apparent now, with the “normal” spring-like weather we’re
having, there is still evidence of the horror we lived through the last
six months.
As
we drove northward on the May long weekend, we spotted a few
specks of leftover snow banks on the side of the road. At my parents’ farm, larger banks of snow
adorned the east-facing slopes of the North Saskatchewan River, like miniature
glaciers where glaciers really shouldn’t exist. Regina’s landfill still has a massive snow bank where the
winter’s record-breaking amounts of snow were dumped. There is some disagreement, apparently, as to
whether all of it will melt before winter… sheesh.
Winter was always more enjoyable as a child |
Almost
every day, I would reassure our student from the warm clime of southern Japan
that this would be the coldest it would get.
She must have thought we Canadians liked to tease, because it became
colder the closer it got to April. And every
time we would drive down our street, jumping in and out of foot-deep snow ruts,
she would utter, “Whoa, wow!” When I told her we’ve
had the most snow ever, she said, “I’m very lucky.” The Japanese are so diplomatic.
There
were some explanations offered as to why we suffered this cruel fate during
this period of so-called global warming.
The climate people used the analogy of a large rock up in the atmosphere
over Greenland. Somehow this “rock”
diverted the jet stream so we got all the cold, and somewhere in the world,
they got a bit more heat. Maybe the ice
caps melted a bit more at our expense, which is not exactly a win-win. Polar bears suffer, we suffer. Why don’t we just keep the atmospheric air
flows where they’re meant to be?
As I
shovelled 12,000 pounds of snow off my roof in April, I briefly considered
moving to a warmer climate like B.C. or North Dakota (a little warmer maybe?) Then I reconsidered. After all, I now I have the privilege to tell
my grandchildren and great-grandchildren that I survived one of the harshest
winters in the history of all mankind.
When
they’ll be going to school in shorts and t-shirts in December, cruising down the
streets on their hovercrafts, I’ll be able to say to them, “Back in my day, I
had to walk through six feet of snow, uphill both ways, just to get to work!”
Because
I did… I really did.
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