I walked around both sides of Wascana Lake this afternoon. It was a cold day. Just before I left, I heard the weather report put the day’s high temperature here at minus 21. That’s cold, but not too cold. Cold enough to make the snow squeak under your boots, but not so cold that your nostrils freeze when you inhale. Cold enough to need mitts instead of gloves, but not so cold that you need to wear gloves inside your mitts, too. As usual, the challenge for me was to keep from getting too warm and sweaty instead of worrying about the cold.
The side streets have been polished to treacherous glass by passing vehicles. The footpaths in the park are easier walking, even where they’ve drifted over. The sky was overcast, so my photographs aren’t that interesting. Still, if the sky had been clear, the temperature would’ve been a good ten degrees colder. Thankfully there was little wind. Even a slight breeze can end up flaying exposed skin at minus 21.
Knowing that people are stupid and litigious, the park authority has festooned the path with warning signs. Others have left Christmas decorations behind. And a few benches seem to have been turned into memorials for the departed.
There’s enough snow here for skiing and snowshoeing, although Google Earth’s satellite imagery still thinks it’s summer. There weren’t many people using the park today, though: a few pedestrians and dog walkers, and about as many skiers and snowshoers. The ice rink in the rowing club’s parking lot was empty. But there were kids tobogganing on the hill–the only one in the city–and someone left a snow angel behind.
My camera is acting up. The little doors that cover the lens are getting stuck, and frost got on the lens as a result, blurring some of my photographs. I guess I’ll have to take it in for a repair.
When I walk in the winter, I often fantasize about walking the Camino Francés in winter. I think about what that might be like: the challenges of finding the path when there’s snow, of drying wet walking clothes in underheated albergues, of getting enough to eat and drink in nearly deserted villages. It would be difficult, but I think it would be rewarding, too. And people make that walk every winter, so clearly it can be done. I wonder if my friends Geoff and Neil would be interested in a February adventure some time. I’ll have to ask.