The other day, in a matter of hours, as the temperature toyed with the freezing point and a mere –1°C, some 10 to 15 centimetres of snow fell on Ottawa.
And while that temperature is perfect for making snowmen, snowballs, and snow forts, with the moisture making the snow cling to itself and making the snow pack perfectly, it's a downright pain in the ass (and back, and shoulders, and joints) to shovel.
Because the snow is melting as it hits the ground, it becomes mostly liquid. Liquid is much heavier than that crystal-like precipitation. Had the temperature been colder—say, –10°C—the snow accumulation would have been more: perhaps, as much as 20 centimetres.
I would have preferred that, because it would have also been much lighter.
As the snow fell, I grabbed my camera and stepped outside my front door. The snow banks, already piled high, were even higher (yes, that's my lamp post sticking out). And then I went out the back door, and took another shot.
As I said, snow is pretty.
But I am so done with winter, I cannot describe my longing for spring.
Happy Friday!
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