The Value of Seasons, and Snow

10649888_961185411844_2895187482784671267_nI’ve lived in Canada my entire life. Just North of Toronto, by about 45 minutes (that’s how we tell distance here) if the traffic is good.

I’m 27 years old, and winter seldom held magic for me after the age of 12. It was the last time I went skiing, probably one of the last time’s I really played in the snow and is about the time I realized that winter can be more of a hindrance than something amazing.

I guess I got older, grew jaded. I forgot about the value of all seasons, and the value of snow. Its priceless. And what it gives us is even more priceless.

It just took Switzerland for me to realize how much it means to live somewhere where we get to experience the beauty, and struggle of all four seasons (five if you count construction).

It also took a bus load of Australians, New Zealanders, and some people from the Philippines.

When on Cosmos European Masterpiece one of the excursions offered to us was a ride to, and then a ride up Mount Titlis. A 1555353_961179992704_476617448505326825_nride well past 8,000 ft and one I wasn’t sure I would do. But one of my newly found friends, Adrienne, had never seen snow before. Another challenged “the Canadian” to a snowball fight.

It was on, and I was up there. After all, who else can teach you to have fun in the snow but a Canadian?

As it turns out, an Australian will do pretty damn well. Especially one who has never seen snow in person.

We bounded out of the rotair, across the metal covering the snow and spilled out into the snow. And everyone burst into a fervor of activity. Snowballs were packed together tightly, and thrown with reckless abandon.

People shook their heads at us, laughed. Some joined in.

It was snowy and I was happy, I was happy because I got to be a part of someone else’s first experience in the snow.

What followed was a day of fun. We spun down a hill on/in tubes, yelping, and laughing and generally carrying on.

10653537_961184518634_5130279957648014341_nIt was cold. It was the same frosty atmosphere that I bitched about every winter day in Canada, but the cold didn’t make us stop, we just kept going on, kept having fun. We kept making memories, cementing friendships.

A small toboggan ride ended with me managing to get snow down my pants, and instead of swearing, stomping and being generally grumpy about it I recounted the tale to Adrienne while laughing hysterically.

Then we made a snowman, he was tiny, and a bit misshapen but he was ours. He was Button and in a way, he was as perfect as the world around us.

We walked (I clung) along a suspension bridge attached to the side of the mountain. I felt sick, but at the same time, as the ice cold air whipped around us I felt thrilled.

We walked through a glacier, and instead of resenting ice for once for being in my way, or making me slip I grippedĀ the railing and laughed as we tried not to fall over and snapped pictures of one of nature’s gorgeous miracles.

This (minus the suspension bridge) was all stuff we have here though, in Canada.

As children’s we play just like this, we learn to ski downhill, cross country. We even learn to snow shoe, and snowball fights happen, snowmen and snow women crop up, seemingly like magic throughout the day.

But as adults, a good lot of us resent the snow. When really, we should be out their playing with our kids, our little cousins, our friends kids.

Because we really are lucky to live in a place where we get snow, and yet, we take it for granted.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find out when my local ski resort is opening, and if they offer tubing.


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