We had a magnificent snowfall over the weekend. The photographs in this post were taken on Friday, but so much more continued to fall, that we were utterly blanketed in white on Saturday. I think snow is especially in the city, where the beautified natural surroundings is simply dramatic.
My husband went to work with my six year old on Saturday morning, but I got the younger boys dressed and we went outside to shovel the walk. The sun was high and shining, and even with all the snow, it was a mild day. If our oldest had been with me, he would have called the snow “glitter”.
Many of our neighbours were out shoveling their walks. Most of the houses on our street have parking in the alleys behind the houses, so shoveling in the front yard just means a walkway or two. It’s not a big job, so no one uses a snow blower. It was all quiet, just the scraping of shovels hitting the pavement, everyone using their hands to clear a path.
I met a kindly neighbour who I haven’t seen for awhile. ”How are you?” I called.
“I’m old,” he replied. ”This is the fourth time I’ve shoveled.”
“There’s so much. This is my first time out,” I said.
He just shook his head at the white around us.
I couldn’t resist: “Isn’t it beautiful though?”
Almost with resignation, he said, “Yeah… it’s lovely. Makes you want to sing ‘O Canada’”.