SNOW, WIND AND RAIN

A little over a week ago I was basking in the delightful sunshine of a warm spring day in Melbourne. The sky was clear and the sun was warm. A week later I walk a snowy trail in Okanagan Falls in British Columbia, Canada wondering when the sun will shine again and when my ears will be warm.

The Okanagan Valley is considered one of the prettiest and "must live" places in Canada. It is Canada's answer to South East Queensland, everyone who doesn't live here wants to move here to live. In the warmer months tourists flock to the region to sample the wine, take in the majestic mountain ranges that border the Valley and swim in the cool, crystal clear water of deep blue freshwater lakes. The days are hot and long, perfect for a holiday and a break from the hustle and bustle of larger Canadian and American cities.

Life is almost perfect.

But as the months march on, strange things start to happen, the leaves on the tree's change colours and then fall to the ground leaving behind bare limbs. Gaggles of birds take to the air and fly south in large V formations, precious garden trees and shrubs are wrapped in hessian to protect them from the cold.

Winter is on its way to Okanagan Falls.

In South East Queensland if a minimum temperature reaches 5c there is a run on doona's at
K-Mart. When I was living in Darwin recently a drop in temperature to 18c made front page news and prompted Darwinians to write to their southern relatives urging them to send Ugg Boots and flannel shirts.

If only that were the case in Okanagan Falls. Looking at the week ahead the maximum temperature is a forecast 5c and the minimum is -6. Those in the East of Canada would say that is an excellent forecast as temperatures there are often 10c-15c colder than here in the Okanagan.

The house I live in has central heating, a fireplace as well as two oil burners I walk around the house in shorts and t-shirt and I sometimes forget where I am and venture out to collect the mail or put the dog out and stop dead in my tracks as an icy cold wind takes hold of me and freezes the exposed parts of my body. In a most un-Australian fashion I bolt back into the warm house screaming like a little girl.

When we take the dog for a walk along the cliffs that overlook Skaha Lake one has to dress as if heading off for a mission to the Antarctic. Hat, ear-protectors, scarf, a heavy jacket with layers underneath as well as a pair of wind-proof pants, with thermals underneath, heavy woollen socks and sturdy shoes.

Well that is what the smart Canadians wear.

Whereas a smart Aussie such as I try and make do with a jacket over a t-shirt a pair of jeans a pair of sport socks and runners! I don't want to wear the offered hat because it will make me look like Elmer Fudd, nor do I want ear muff's as only small children and old folk's wear them. Layers of clothes under my jacket...no way no self respecting ANZAC would dare do that and only Canadians and people on American sitcoms wear long-john's. Warm socks would be nice but they cost five bucks and I would rather have a punt on the Wallabies than waste five dollars in trying to keep warm.

So I walk the snowy, windswept paths, with my ear's frozen and face chilled. My hands are numb with cold and starting to turn blue as frostbite sets in. My shivers and shakes nearly send me over the edge of the narrow path, but when asked if I am cold or if I would like a loan of a pair of gloves I just growl back that that would be a wussy thing to do and I am not cold at all.

I sometimes really hate my goddamn Australian pride and stubbornness.

Just today I asked my partner how cold it actually gets here in the middle of winter and she said last year it got to -27c on quite a few occasions. At that rate I may have to wear two t-shirts under my jacket.

But there is something to be said for walking in the snow with the sun shining, the air crisp, cold and clear an experience we don't often get in Australia.

Today as we were walking the dog my partner said "oh look at the big stick Matilda has in her mouth." M'mmm to my mind something didn't look quite right about this "stick" the dog had in her mouth.

You can imagine my amusement when I found that the "stick" was actually the leg of a deer. Matilda no doubt thought that this was indeed her lucky day. God knows what happened to the rest of the deer, perhaps a wolf or a cougar. I do know that after I wrestled the large morsel from Matilda we stepped a little more carefully in case there was a predator lurking in the woods.

Life is interesting, there is something different every day. Canada is so different but at the same time so similar to Australia