Island perspective

Born and raised in and around St. John's, Newfoundland, I've seen the fog moving in from the Grand Banks over the coastline. That fog can be so thick, it's as if it obscures everything but the tip of your nose.

When I first saw the recent time lapse video of the smog advancing over Beijing, it reminded me of the fog of home. However, that wall of white wasn't as benign as fog. This smog is deadly in its effect on the millions of people in that city. It is easy to take our clean air for granted.

Time lapse video

One day recently as I drove to the store in Summerside, Prince Edward Island, the sun was out and the sky was clear. From the car it looked like a lovely winter day, but the appearance belied the reality. The temperature was -16 C and the high wind made it feel like -27 C, (3,-17 F). At ground level, the wind gusts blew the snow around causing drifting in open areas.  The walk from the car to the store became a run.

On the way out of the store, I stood with two other seniors, a husband and wife, as the sliding doors opened to the wind. We were blown back by the gust coming into the lobby. The man said, "That's a fresh breeze." I laughed at his reframe of the bitterly cold wind.  

But, you know, it was.

Freeze and thaw

It has been bitterly cold with temperatures in the minus teens and windchills of minus thirties Celsius. It is a damp cold that feels as if it cuts to your bone, going through jackets, hats, mitts and pants as if you were naked. However, I couldn't resist a visit to see if the harbour was frozen. In the few minutes I was there, my hands felt close to frostbitten.

Last Friday, January 6th, I posted this picture of the harbour channel, taken the previous day.

 

As of Wednesday, January 11th, this is the harbour channel.

 

Meanwhile, the temperature has risen and will be near 5 degrees Celsius for several days. There may be open water again. 

There is often a January thaw but this year, another freeze and thaw cycle is forecast. We live in curious weather times!

Intruder

The animals that live along the boardwalk in Summerside, Prince Edward Island, are admired by the many walkers along the trail by the harbour. During the work day, retired citizens frequent the trail, often stopping to watch the animals and speak about them.

On one of our recent visits, people were concerned about an area of the trail which, up until recently, was a favourite haunt of squirrels and numerous other animals. 

 

 

Finally, one gentleman came along who reported about a white weasel that had taken up residence in this area, causing the regular residents to scatter.

As we walked further along the trail, another area of the boardwalk had numerous squirrels 

 

and chickadees where none had lived before.

 

Our grand-dog, Georgie was fascinated with the squirrels 

 

and would have stayed to watch them if we had not coached her along. 

 

The squirrels, accustomed to leashed dogs, ignored her. 

 

Unleashed weasels on the other hand...

Georgie and the tapioca snow

It was mild overnight, above zero and as the sun rose, it looked like the overcast skies would clear. By breakfast, bits of blue showed through the clouds. However, the temperature dropped a few degrees, just below freezing and the wind picked up.

While we read the news after breakfast, the golden grand-dog was getting anxious for her walk. 

 

Georgie's idleness lets us know it's time to hit the road or trail for that daily adventure into the great outdoors, regardless of the weather.

"Watch the black ice," my husband warned. "It was icy in spots early this morning." The local weatherman warned the same on his twitter account. I put on the footwear with the most traction but not the ice grips. I was not prepared for the flash freeze.

As we headed out, it started to snow from a huge black cloud over the neighbourhood. Tiny snowballs fell all around and covered us. This type of snow is known as tapioca snow or graupel. 

 

 

With the wind as it was, drifts of snow crossed the road making the ice more difficult to see. The pavement was a tapioca covered skating rink.

I gave Georgie some lead so if I fell I wouldn't land on her. That was all she needed. She pulled and when she did, off I slid, propelled by the wind at our backs and the brute strength of a golden retriever. Georgie had no trouble negotiating the ice as her claws dug in with every step. 

As I slid past the houses I was terrified. Frantic, I watched the road and the dog, hoping no cars would happen by as I was forced to go where my slide dog took me. In a panic by now, with images of the emergency room in my head, I looked for a way out of the dilemma and noticed the lawns looked safe. As Georgie swung by the curb, I jumped onto the grass. We walked there until we reached the house behind ours and crossed home through the backyard. 

Georgie, my heroine, slept most of the day. A well deserved rest!

 

The harbour ice at low tide

The ice in the harbour at Summerside, Prince Edward Island this time of year is fascinating.

 

During our last walk there this week, ice was left behind by the retreating tide, aground and fractured. 

 

Pans of ice are piled on each other in places and have a hint of red colour from the island sand.

 

They abut the shoreline near the range light and the beach along the inner part of the harbour. 

 

The ice stands out against the red rock which prevents erosion along the shoreline.

 

Meanwhile, further out in the harbour, along the shipping channel, there is open water. 

 

The port has been busy this week ahead of the freeze up of the Northumberland Strait.

Soon all will be frozen for another winter.

The damage

We had a wind and rain storm last week, with sustained winds over 100 kilometers an hour. We lost shingles from the roof and siding off the shed. Our neighbourhood is strewn with bits of shingles as roofers make repairs before the next wintery blast. 

Meanwhile, the trees along the boardwalk by the bay show devastation 

 

in the wake of the storm. 

 

The boardwalk has been cleared of debris but the greenbelt has not and the damage is obvious.

 

I fear there will come a day when the boardwalk will not be lined with trees because all will have been destroyed by high winds. 

 

We have another wind and rain storm today.

 

Discovery

One of my favourite Christmas experiences is to sit by the fire reading, 

 

or to sit peacefully in the evening, with the Christmas tree lights, the fire and a few candles lighting the room. 

The evening is a great time for reflection, to consider the past year and whether to make changes for the year ahead. In the last year, it surprised me to discover things about myself I did not realize. It is as if my conscious mind caught a glimpse of the self my spirit always knew.

My husband and I spent time this year exploring places new to us on our island home of Prince Edward. After the tourists left, the trails, beaches, and heritage roads were empty. We didn't meet another person during our explorations, as if we were alone on the planet on these occasions.

 

At such times, the stillness of nature will envelope you if you permit it. Allow it to enter and you become one with the breath of the earth, the rhythm of the living world. 

 

The cycle of life from new to old unfolds all around you. A river or stream babbles so as to report its delight in its condition and by its motion reaffirms the cycle.

We have walked busy streets in various cities around the world, such as New York, London, Sydney, and Paris. We enjoyed the hustle and bustle on the streets, the opportunities to explore and experience new things. We may do it again.

However, I have learned that for me, nothing compares to the feeling which comes with time in nature, walking a trail or beach and sharing a beverage, often a thermos of tea, with a loved one. The tea is almost a sacrament, a symbol of the serenity which bathes the body and inspires the soul. The air is fresh, and the sounds of the water, the birds, the wind in the trees all soothe the mind and body. 

 

Self discovery is an important part of aging. Better late than never.