Mon pays, ce n’est pas un pays, c’est l’hiver
Mon jardin, ce n’est pas un jardin, c’est la plaine
Mon chemin, ce n’est pas un chemin, c’est la neige
Mon pays, ce n’est pas un pays, c’est l’hiver
Gilles Vigneault’s anthem is of course a political statement, but it also evokes something that many in Canada have forgotten. To be Canadian is to embrace the winter.
After decades of living in the Lower Mainland of BC, the move to Nova Scotia has wrapped us up in a big, white, fuzzy embrace. This weekend we sat and watched as a great snow-filled storm blew in from the Atlantic for hours on end, covering everything with inches of white magic.
What I had forgotten is that the snow falling is incredibly peaceful. It makes no sound, yet it transforms everything from the brown and black of winter into a clean, clear, bright landscape of endless promise.
In the new fallen snow we see the gardens that we will plant in spring. We can imagine the decks and furniture, and the evenings sitting and watching the sunset. As great white flakes fall and cover it, I can begin planning, in my mind, the job of removing old shingles from the sides of the barn, and replacing the shell of the building to keep out the rain and snow.
One of our great delights in moving to Nova Scotia is to be in a place where people and government actually understand the winter. Like Montreal, and unlike BC or southern Ontario, Nova Scotia understands that when it snows you need big, powerful snow plows, and you need lots of them. It is comforting to trust that even our little side road will be cleared fairly quickly, and even more so that the plow drivers actually make an effort to not plow everything into your driveway.
It’s equally comforting to to know that our newest car, a 2016 Mazda CRX, is an absolute trooper in the snow. All-wheel drive, and big studded Nokian snow tires mean that we just carry on as normal. Part of embracing winter is being prepared for it. Shovels. Salt. Snow tires…. it all matters.
Of course an equal part of our first Nova Scotia winter is making a long list of things to upgrade before next year - insulating the floors, filling in holes and cracks, adding foam behind light switches. And figuring out why the two staircases are the coldest places in the house.
In the meantime though I am looking out our windows, and watching the light flurries this morning, and looking forward to going out and exploring more of our property, plowing through snow that has drifted knee-deep in places, but enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in scarf and toque, and feeling the cold air on my face.