As I was waltzing dizzily across the dance floor in my hubby’s arms, new lyrics to the familiar Doris Day ditty started spinning in my mind:
When it was cold at minus 10,
I asked the forecaster, “What will it be?
Will it stay winter? Will there be spring?”
Here’s what (s)he said to me:
Que sera, sera! Whatever will be, will be!
The weather’s not ours to see. – Que sera, sera.”
Well, March went out bleating like a lamb after all, and April 1st brought +8C! Wait – a joke? But the snow has almost all disappeared, and April 2 promises +14C! Yet, there’s one more slide down during this week before double digits arrive at last, next week. Yikes, if winter is hanging on because I haven’t yet posted about this February event mentioned last time, sorry! Here it is:
It’s a half-hour flight in a 2-seater Cessna 150 airplane, from Waterloo to a small airport outside of Tillsonburg in southern Ontario, Canada. Werner is the pilot. On this cold winter day, it’s sunny, bright; the air smooth; skies azure blue, empty, quiet; the flat land below us snow-covered, white.
With no camera along, I scribble in my notebook, a desperate attempt to snap some word-photos. Below us, the patchwork of white fields and dark forests simply compels sewing analogies:
[Click] Straight lines of fence posts, snagging snow drifts with their shadows, zip two fields together.
[Click] A tree nursery’s smaller square patches are old-fashioned embroidery samplers, with scrubby trees casting shadows to form black chevrons and cross-stitches in tidy rows across the white snow.
[Click] Pale yellow ochre lines of corn stubble poking through the snow make fields look like swatches of white corduroy.
After a leisurely lunch at Tillsonburg, we divert northwest toward Lake Huron. A white creek embossed on the snow meanders along with us. Ghostly windmills stand motionless, almost invisible in the white snow except for their shadows. Ahead, the blended lake, sky, and snow slowly separate into their components. We overfly Grand Bend, the curve of the bay filled in with a white snow cover, patterned with snowmobile tracks. Further out, narrow dark blue lines of open water meander through the translucent blue and gray ice, its glassy shimmer extending to the horizon. Breathtaking!
Heading inland again toward Waterloo, my mental camera snaps more shots: in a dark tract of woods, white roofs looking like ghost houses; empty old silos standing in a field like lonesome sentries; woods forming a dark rectangle on white snow, tree shadows fringing the edge; snow-dusted piles of gravel at a pit, looking like giant barnacles; over our city, white roofs looping around their subdivisions and lit by the low sun, look like pearls and gemstones on necklaces strewn on a table. Then, Werner makes his usual smooth landing at the airport.
*I hope this “overview” gives you a sense of our home territory in winter. This flight was indeed on February 10, 2015, but, sorry for cheating, the pictures were taken a few years ago…
So, now let Spring advance!