This has been an unusual winter so far. Not just the manner in which society has been hamstrung from normalcy thanks to the ubiquity of a threatening virus and all the constraints avoidance has visited upon us. The weather patterns, thanks to another anomaly of nature, appear to be reflecting the uncertainty of climate change; inexorable and inexplicable, with its influence on normalcy, or what we have always recognized as 'the usual', patterns of life as we've known them.

 

The difference in this winter's weather is on the incidental side; nothing comparable with the tumultuous weather patterns upheaved by tornadoes, wildfires, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis, torrential rains of a nature unprecedented in their ferocity. The modest difference that we identify here with is the paucity of snow that has fallen in a region always known for its heavy snowfalls.

 

We've accumulated just enough snow to cover the ground, little more. Most winters at this time would see a sizeable snowpack. And most Januaries have a brief period of unseasonable mild temperatures we always recognize as a 'January thaw' that melts at least a quarter of the snowpack, before it begins accumulating once again with the refreshed arrival of colder weather, and more snow.

 

The lack of snow this year is obvious in the conditions prevailing in the forest for example, where the trails' covering of snow has hardened, packed down tight with a layer of ice under and over. People on the trails without cleats cling to trees for stability on their ascents and descents of the hills in the ravine.

A horrible accident that occurred a week ago on a snowy hill crusted with ice that the municipality has warned residents through signage is not to be used, took the life of a ten-year-old girl when the toboggan she was sliding downhill on with her older brother and sister hit a metal signpost.

 

It also hasn't been quite as icy-cold as frequently as a normal winter would be with a number of daytime highs in the -20C range. Of course, when we're out in -10C with a mean wind, or today at -15C and wind, it seems brutal. It feels just like -20C. Today I layered well under my down-filled winter jacket; two undergarments and two thick sweaters over them, along with a scarf. I could feel the cold penetrating. 

 

My face felt ice-stiff with the cold, my mittened hands felt frozen. My feet rarely feel cold in thick long socks and winter boots, but my toes on arrival back home after our ravine hike this afternoon, felt cold. During our hike over the spine of the ravine, Jackie began pouncing up at Irving and me, a signal that he wanted to be picked up. He was cold and wanted to be held. So held he was, until he got edgy when a large dog appeared behind us and he squirmed to be let down, so he could run after the unassuming dog.

 

Irving remarked on my cheeks, how red they were. Like a painted wooden Babushka doll. An old friend from my high school teen years wrote me today that it's also really cold in Toronto. Too cold, she said, to get out for a much-needed walk on the street with her walker. And, she said, she could no longer safely walk through her apartment building hallways because too many people have the 'virus', without informing anyone else or remaining isolated.