It’s the same sob story every year. The sun disappears for hours on end, the days are gloomier and on the whole, you wish you had nothing other to do but sleep the entirety of the day away and wake up in June.
Yes, there are those of you who welcome the winter season with open arms. You are not my people. I loathe winter. My hatred starts late in the fall as the leaves float downwards to their death and I take part in the mourning ritual that recognizes the end of all things warm and the start of Canada’s harshest season. The summer clothes get tossed aside and out comes the trunk of winter gear. Hats, gloves, neck warmers, ski pants, winter jackets, winter coats, winter boots etc. And if you try to deny the onslaught of winter elements, be prepared to soak. I could skip right to “freeze” but it’s the wetness I detest even more than the cold. When the snow has fallen and begins to melt all over the street like ice cream down a sugar cone. Everyone sloshing through puddles on their way to work and tracing slush down the sidewalks, the colour turning darker with every step. Shudder. The “cold” bit isn’t any better. It’s not that we thoroughly enjoy walking around like Inuits, garbed in hats under our hoods lined with fur as to ward off the snow attacking from every side – but what choice do we have?