Wednesday, December 17, 2008
For now, I have to suit up (what would I do without my silk long johns?!) and trudge up to campus (given last week's events, I'm not taking the car during this latest Snowfall Warning from Weather Canada) to see if that's where I've left the missing marks I need to complete my records and get my students' grades entered. I can't believe I didn't grab them the other day, but I'm telling myself the challenge of 7 or 8 kilometres of hilly, snowy,walking will be good for me. I can pretend I'm an Olympic athlete, inspired by this 2010 Olympics rock sculpture I photographed in the English Bay snow on the weekend. I won't be convinced (or convincing) but I can pretend . . .
I did manage to get out and walk in the Vancouver snow on the weekend, and while I'm not sure it was "pretty," there was at least a bleak romanticism to it.The greyness of the English Bay water has something to do with this bleakness, of course, but there's also something here of the liminality between life and death that shadows us through the deep winter days -- the margins between earth and sea here echoed by the margins between solid and liquid, snow and water. For me, and sorry to get maudlin here, but winter's cold always reminds me of death, of the fragility of life.
This is why colour and light and celebration are so important in the winter and why I was so grateful to my daughter, Megan, for hosting a cheery gathering in her Yaletown home. More of those pics later.