30+ cm of snow

So much for the 6 months of scary snow talking by the locals since my arrival here! With all that talk and built up of expectations I was readying myself for the coming winter with visions of doors blocked by snow and declarations of national emergency… and then the snow falls and everyone is distraught! Admittedly driving in such conditions represents a challenge and all journeys take two to three times as long. Still, I thought they would be tougher, or at least not so shocked.

Snow is what falls from the sky in place of rain when it is less then zero degrees Celsius. Yet there is one not immediately apparent complication. While 30 cm of rain will cause a few puddles, these will drain rapidly into ground waters. 30 cm of snow does not go anywhere in a hurry. It all piles up. 30 cm of snow is of course an average, which means that some areas are higher than others, and the snow cleared from a path contributes to 60, 90 and even 120+ cm of snow in places.

To the credit and honour of Toronto municipality, main roads’ cleaning is very efficient. You hear the trucks doing their thing before 7 am. They are many and different, from sewer canister trucks to hydrogen delivery trucks and just trucks. But like civil police with red arm bands, these trucks are all fitted with same yellow scoop at their fronts, creating an impression of a united snow clearing front. These guys run along major roads in threes, like military plane formations, each in a next line and just behind the other, with reels of snow fraying to the side of a road. Smaller tractors of all sorts do more delicate jobs at corners and large driveways.

Smaller non-strategic streets and walks are a different matter. Walking in the footsteps of those before you takes on a different meaning, and you avoid the perils of taking a path less travelled.

Walking to work takes longer now. Partly because there are no shortcuts and you cannot jaywalk. The snow from the wide streets is piled up on their sides by the trucks with yellow scoops, creating military-like defence-style summits. Initially you try to charge these. You succeed to the top of one, run down when you spot a window in the oncoming traffic, and then you make it to the other side. Suddenly you realise the cunning trap that will stop your advance: a far steeper wall of the summit on the other side with no breaks until the nearest intersection and a new wave of cars slowly rolling towards you like enemy tanks. You only make this and similar mistakes once of course.

Cars are fewer, but people are not. People are still rushing everywhere, just like the traffic. Just like the traffic there are those who are in a greater hurry. You recognise them changing pedestrian lines many times and when approaching an intersection they suddenly veer off to a side, and you later realise that that is where the puddle or the snow slurp is least demanding on a pedestrian.

Children have to be taken places, and you see those nylon packages of puffy five point stars with a small red button of a face peering out of one of the corners, being carried or wheeled in fortified prams. You see them and you admire the parents’ determination, at the same time realising how minimal your own inconveniences are relative to theirs.

Some people still bicycle! The bicycles roll on propelled by the rider’s determination more than by laws of physics, with snow tyres well wrapped with snow like a christmas present.

Watching people park their cars along smaller streets can be like watching car-skating – there is definitely a skill and courage involved.

Snow is not the worst part of it though. It is the wind. It is the same wind that you encounter with rain in a warmer time. But now instead of getting wet you just don’t see much in front of you because you don’t have an umbrella and the wind is brushing your face with snow like those car-wash brushes brush the cars. Plus you still get wet when you walk into a building, with the hot fans between two sets of doors quickly melting the snow.

Of course what comes down from the sky must eventually come further down through the ground.

Early spring usually brings to mind melting of snow and rain and warmer weather and in April people fall in love, at least in Paris. If Paris was in Ontario, then people would be falling in love most of December. After four days of heavy snowfall, all of a sudden it is much warmer one evening, it is raining and the snow is melting away in front of your eyes. Global warming or not, but if I was a bear I would be really confused about the timing for hibernation. Now the word snow is forever in my mind associated with squishy words starting with “s” like “Slush”, “Sludge”, “Slurp” and “Slip”.

Despite the rapid meltdown, the larger heaps of snow are still holding up on the sides of the roads, and navigation of the streets remains challenging. Although there are no short-cuts when crossing the streets, soon you find the shortest long-cuts, which are those where the level of the puddle is not above the level of your shoe or at least you can jump further than the puddle’s border. This however is discovered in an experimental fashion. Seeing a foot print probably means that it is not a puddle, but some looks can be deceiving.

Two things give away it being winter and not spring though. First, there are no birds singing. Although I did spot a few of them around, those have been selected by natural selection not to sing or risk loosing their voice all together. Second, the next evening it is very cold again. The streets are now clean and you don’t drown in snow or slurp, so you pick up the pace of your walk in a happier spirit. This is when you discover yet another peril of winter: the ice is transparent like glass. You think you are stepping onto asphalt when your feet surprise you by sliding much farther than you planned. Luckily, your midbrain-initiated balance-maintaining reflex kicks in and saves your upright grace. Then your cortex commands a slower pace and you develop a peculiar kind of a walk with knees slightly bent for balance, shorter steps, arms slightly to your side, head slightly bent forward with eyes scanning the path, and overall you have an appearance of readiness for unsteadiness.

The real winter, apparently, is yet to come!