Monday, January 24, 2011

winter's words

When I wake up to days as cold as this one (-23!), even as a lifelong midwestern-winter-survivor, my winter vocabulary fails me. "SO COLD" doesn't really cut it, so I resort to saying things like: it is SO COLD that Toby comes home from walks with icicles on his chin, or: it is SO COLD that there is a very scary breathless pause for a second after I turn the key in the car ignition, but then it reluctantly starts. Begins to sound like a barrage of "your momma's SO FAT..." jokes.

Even though I am well acquainted with winter and her many moods, this slight shift north of the border has also involved some terms I've never heard before, giving names and imagery to even more aspects of winter. Nice to meet you, snow squall! You sound like you belong on some bird's nametag, but instead you are a funny name for a brutal cocktail of wind and snow that makes that stretch of the 401 between London and Sarnia the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

Also charmingly deceptive: the Alberta Clipper, named for the province it usually originates in and speedy 19th-century ships. (More cuteness: when it originates elsewhere, it's named Manitoba Mauler or Saskatchewan Screamer.) The most recent one to pass through was a quick introduction, but I don't need to spend any more quality time, if you know what I'm saying. It's a fast-moving storm system characterized by high winds and dramatic drops in temperature: winter's drama queen, apparently.

I don't know if it's our location or if it's just the nature of the season this time around, but I am grateful for shifts and varying weather patterns, at least. We've had no endless stretches of bitter cold (HOW COLD?) or unseasonable warmth. We haven't had to deal with any squalls during long car trips, but have had enough scatterings of snow to keep the winteraholic in me satisfied. People find a lot of ways to complain about this time of year, but you won't hear any griping from me, unless I'm reeling in the wake of of a Clipper.