It was snowing today. All afternoon. The Christmas lights look fabulous against the all-white background. Minus 5 deg C. Almost perfect. Last night, my wife and I strolled around the neighborhood looking at the decorations on the houses and trees and came home thinking about how really nice it all was.
We wore the Covid masks during our walk, particularly when we were in the downtown section of Verdun, the little corner of Montreal that we call home. The masks sadly reminded us of the gloomy, grim realty of the 2020 plague that unfortunately diminishes the Christmas spirit. Hard not to see those two conflicting realities as some bizarre kind of balance. Why can’t the virus just go away and leave the attractive loveliness of the season to brighten the short days and the sting of colder temperatures on bare faces?
Such a contrast: the sweetness of late December and the dull harshness of an unrelenting and harsh viral reality. We await our turn for the vaccination that might still be two or three months away. The news is not good. Virus and Trump. Trump and virus. Such a bore. Anything else going on in the world? Oh, yeah…Christmas.
“It ain’t me babe, it ain’t me you’re looking for, babe.” (Dylan)
A Canadian parasailer on a frozen lake. Alone. Must be 30 below, brave soul. I’m inside next to a living room fire, hot toddy in hand. This photo was taken a few years ago when we lived on an inlet of the Ottawa River, about an hour 's drive from Montreal. Pre-virus.
So what do you do to pass the long winter hours? Where do you find happiness and joy during these dark times?