Row, Row, Row the Boat

     A T-shirt would be a fun. One that says “I Survived the Polar Vortex 2014” on the front. And on the back we could write down all the strange, funny things we had to do to make it through this incredibly long, will-it-ever-end winter.

Seriously, folks did have to use all their resources and inner wisdom to solve some of the problems with the cold.
     Whether it was depending on a friend’s garden hose for water because the kitchen pipes froze or finally figuring out which scarf keeps the wind from biting off your face, ingenuity was the name of the daily survival game.For sports fans, the Sault once more gave spark to winter events.
     Congrats to the Sault’s 16-year- old St Basil’s student, Mac Marcoux. He won Paralympic gold and two bronze for visually impaired skiing.The young athlete, the youngest of Canada’s Paralympians, showed amazing maturity and common sense when he had to face some difficult disappointments. When his brother BJ couldn't lead him down the hill, Mac praised his bro. He indicated that even though BJ wouldn't be the one skiing in front of him, BJ was the one that got him there in the first place. And then when his radio communicator disabled just before his run, Marcoux followed Robin Femy, his brother’s replacement lead skier, with the calm resolve of “I hope and pray I make it down”.
     The youthful Marcoux exhibited how the world opens up if we can take the time to “see”. The small birds, like the finches, are one example. We have had quite a few at our feeder for most of this 2014. In January, during the minus 30 C days, the lively friends hop from seed to seed, singing away, their little bodies somehow withstanding the cold. Now that the winter is waning, their greyish hue is turning to the brilliant reds and yellows that so distinguishes the males from the females. No digital calendar or app tells the birds to become more colourful. The finches just have the will to do so. No doubt the sun dictates the change and the new little feathers listen and respond.

Just as plants in the window turn towards the sun, I sometimes find myself watching the passage of our old sol. On the massive expanse of frozen Lake Superior, the movements of light can be dramatic. As the sun rises behind our house, light and shadow dance around the icescape. On a clear morning, first light appears on the horizon as a bright pink line. In no time at all, it then becomes a shimmering white. The shadows in front of this line are a solid mass of blue and black. After a few more minutes the shadow defines itself into the shape of hills, cliffs and trees. Finally, like watching a film develop, I can see recognizable shadow shapes. The flower clump of pine trees and the arrow head of white spruce appear on the frozen lake. Before long, the sun shreds these shadows into a few dark ribbons.

Observing the movement of light and dark turns the world into a simpler place, creates an easier way of being.  I had experience this winter with how logic and common sense can diffuse a harried situation. We were on a holiday this winter (yes we escaped for a week to a warm clime). One evening as we queued outside a restaurant for a dinner reservation, a young mother came out of the eatery with a tired, screaming child in her arms. The poor mom was trying to soothe her unhappy daughter and to give distraught fellow diners a break from the crying. We saw her attempting to calm the little girl but to no avail.  Then a very simple solution presented itself. All of us waiting outside began to sing Row, row, row your boat. The child stopped wailing and began to hug her mom. The relieved parent re-entered the restaurant, but not before turning to us and mouthing a silent thank you.  

Spring Equinox sunset

We are in the home stretch now. On Thursday, March 20, at 12:57 pm, we cheered in 2014’s first day of spring. Like it did for Mac, when he had to navigate the hill at the last minute with no listening device to guide him along, common sense can come to the rescue. Especially when we need it the most. Like that T-shirt. We just have to pray for the warm weather so we can wear it.

Long Hard Miles to Play

wind walks on the ice

Long Hard Miles to Play

This darn cold wind.It makes staying warm even more difficult. Even though we have a zillion options. We can sit on radiators or cuddle up to wood stoves. Hot rocks are toasty for fingers and toes. Down parkas, duvets and up-to-your-knees shovelling work too. And of course all that jumping around and cheering during the Olympic Games sure helped.

If there was a gold medal for watching the Olympics, then Canada would have won that one too. Congrats to Team Jacobs, Team Jones, Women’s and Men’s Hockey for not only winning medals but also giving us something to get the blood pumping.

Even watching the audience participation was exciting. Energy from the hoots, hollers and fist pumps of curling supporters at Sault Ste Marie’s Essar Centre was enough to light up the city. And the televised clips of the exuberant hockey fans in Vancouver’s Liberty square, Toronto’s Atrium and Bubba Ray’s Sports Bar in Halifax gave watchers an extra kick to the game.

Wondering about the aftermath from all this hoopla, I called Bubba Ray’s and spoke with Woody, the GM of the Sport’s Bar. When asked about how it’s been, now that the Olympics are over, Woody laughed. “We have an Olympic hangover,” he said.  “We are taking it easy and had two days off to recoup.”

Woody explained that for the Sunday morning gold medal Canada/Sweden hockey game his 604 seat restaurant bar was full to capacity. “Fans with face paint and jerseys were lined up outside at 4:15 am,” he said. “I opened the doors myself at 5:00 am. We made an awful lot of breakfasts that morning.”

A dedicated fan, Woody feels a definite attachment to special sporting moments. “I always remember where I was when Joe Carter hit his home run and I was here at Bubba Ray’s when Crosby scored his golden goal,” he said. “There are a few events you always remember.”

Indeed. Millions witnessed the soul gripping efforts of the athletes. There was magic in every event and the closing ceremonies overflowed with inspiration. They put gold in my heart when light wizardry turned the floor into rolling ocean waves with hundreds of silver clad dancers who resembled fish. And at the very end of the performance, when a thousand children, each with a branch of blossoms, promised the arrival of spring, I remembered that this season’s rigid grip of cold indeed will loosen.

Even though the roots of our own wild flowers languish under six feet of snow and the biting winds turn a – 20C day into a -35C one, we can draw up the sweet scents and voices of spring. I remembered that in January I had the fortune to hear an actual spring sound. When I first heard the robin I figured I must be daydreaming. It was a sunny day with a temperature in the -20s C. Successive days of hearing the familiar song and one afternoon seeing the actual red breast among snowy branches solidified what I knew to be true. And then our neighbour, Rick Roussain,  called in mid February to say that he had a flock of at least 30 robins in his yard! The callers of spring were swooping down to the open water of the Montreal River then returning to the mountain ash trees for a berry feast. The birds were in their own Olympics to see who could get to the berries the fastest.

Such brave feathered friends. They had decided to stay north, had found the stamina to endure the severe challenges of this extreme winter. And to keep warm? Well, they huddle together and shiver. Not quite like gathering together and cheering, but similar. They too know they are in this for the long run. As the announcer said during the gold medal hockey game as he watched the players pass the puck on that Olympic sized rink, “These are long hard miles to play in a game like this.”

Yes, we are in the midst of a long hard winter, the mythical kind when everyone is tested. But hang on folks. The days are longer. The light is returning. Soon there will be a bright March day when the sun’s warmth will begin the melt. We will be able to loosen coats and abandon hats. We will cheer and rejoice in the fact that we participated in this special winter, this extreme event to remember, which should make the return to spring all the sweeter.