Two days ago, Montreal has officially received its first big snow storm of the year. It's a nightmare to step outside. For you to understand it, you have to picture the type of extra effort needed to walk in the blue ocean water where you have to lift your limbs way up high to step over the water level, your almost naked tanned body bombarded by an overwhelming heat, your hair dancing languidly to the rhythm of the delightful wind, and your eyes blinded by the powerful reflection of the sun on the paradisiacal white sanded beach...well right now, it's exactly the same effort required here in Montreal. Only you would find yourself wrapped from head to toe trying to step over what seems to be one meter high of snow with the cold air engulfing your body every time you breathe, the sharp-as-a-knife mixture of merciless wind with icy snowflakes that finds infallibly its way to cut through your reddened face's skin, and finally the blinding white snow covering the whole city that won't give any rest to your teary eyes. Does it sound dramatic? Well, it's THAT dramatic; people who've experienced it can testify.
Now enough of winter ranting, I just wanted to say that lately I've been indulging myself with too much hot chocolate drinks. I won't deny it, the view of such immaculate white snow right outside of my bedroom's windows is indeed enjoyable (but it's only the view, NOT the reality just described above). The landscape is peaceful as it's weighed down by a thick and heavy coat of snow forcing what is normally a bustling city and a frenetic lifestyle to slow down; even noises are less perceptible, muted by the natural soundproof velvet layer of snow. This sense of peacefulness at the end of a day just makes me want to cuddle up in my bed with a captivating book and a mug of hot chocolate on the bedside table, finding comfort from time to time in its sweetness while my imagination no longer belongs to the present moment but swirls into a protagonist's time and reality.
The Trees by Conrad Richter is what I've been reading lately. It's too soon for me to have an opinion about this book but reviews are positive on amazon.ca website. I bought it at the charity shop simply because I like the vintage blue and red engraved embellishment on the cover and the fact that it's also very old: printed in 1940. That's right, anything that has an old feel to it turns suddenly into something more attractive to me.
This is what I have to endure every winter:
"After the Storm" a set of black and white photos by Philippe Fortin