My Canada
Ever since the last speck of persistent frozen crystal cried into the ground last spring, I waited for this, the first snow fall. I am one of these crazy people who love winter. It is November. Promising.
Here, in the Cariboo, the heart of British Columbia, the time span between the last and the first frost might be three months - if we are lucky.
I drive along Mackenzie Avenue and turn into Soda Creek road, leaving the buzz of Williams Lake’s industrial area and sawmills behind me. The parking lot "past the dump" (that’s how we call the location because that’s where it is) is empty. I feel giddy to be the first arriving at the 7.0km mark of the Williams Lake River Valley Trail. To step into the untouched snow is a privilege for which no gilt embossed invitation is necessary.
With my camera in the pocket of my down-filled winter jacket, I stomp through the snow in my oversized Sorel boots. (Oversized for extra sock-space when the temperature drops to minus twenty or more.)
Thousands of years ago, this area was flooded.....
Published in Our Canada: http://space.canoe.ca/group/ourcanada
