I remember as a kid that come the first week of November there would be snow stacked up in drifts several feet high. I remember that snow not melting until sometime around March, when the slush on the road would coat the exterior of your car in a filmy grime.
Winters in Alberta were always somewhat bearable. They were tough, but they were bearable. Every now and then–usually for a week in either December or January–the temperatures would plummet to somewhere around -35 C. The wind would hurt when it hit your face, and any exposed skin would be numbed within seconds.
After a little while the weather would calm back down to a balmy -20 C and everything would feel normal again. As crazy as it sounds, I had grown to somewhat enjoy winter– a feeling I attribute to Christmas, hockey, and nostalgia. Personally, it never felt like the holiday season without snow and the cold. It never felt quite right playing hockey when it wasn’t Antarctica-esque outside. The cold and the snow were just things I had grown used to and had come to anticipate, if not outright enjoy, whenever November rolled around.
Earlier this week I drove my car down a couple range roads northwest of Airdrie. I listened to music and scanned the horizon for whatever it was I was looking for. Then, I found it. Over 350 acres had burned in a grass fire, emergency vehicles had closed off the road, and county firefighters were quickly working to put out what was left of the fire.
An entire grassy hillside was left charred, the big black burn looked like a scar on the dull yellow landscape. Apparently an electrical pole had been blown over and caused the fire. Thankfully, the crews of firefighters were able to contain and stop the burn, but I couldn’t help but feel an eerie sensation wash over me. It was December 5 and the most important story of the day was about a massive grass fire.
December 5! Imagine telling someone a couple of years ago that rural Alberta would be experiencing a serious grass fire two and half weeks before Christmas. They wouldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t believe it.
As already established, I like the cold. Because of my preference to colder temperatures I often end up complaining about the heat during the summer. This past summer I realized, while I was desperately trying to cool my apartment, that every summer for the rest of my life will continue to get hotter and hotter.
Of course that also means that this winter, the one with no snow and grass fires, is most likely going to be the coldest a winter might get for the rest of my life.
