Bicycles and piles of snow

Getting my digs in at winter

Slush on the waves

Giving spring some encouragement

Cold on the outside … and warm on the inside.

Cold on the outside

and warm on the inside

Snowy road

1. The smooth, quiet brush of fresh snow under your skis.
2. The way ice breaks and cracks over rocks as the tide falls.
3. Empty beaches with shimmering vistas.
4. 

   Sea ice and rock, low tide

   The mildness, softness and peace a snowfall brings.
5. Like the folks here, a winter is softness and gentility: quite well mannered, and departs when the welcome is worn.
6. Snow days!
7. A crackling fire in a woodstove making heat that penetrates to your bones.

8. 

   A boy and a buoy

   Walking ON the bay in places we usually row, paddle or sail.

9. Sunlight sparkling off snow-laden branches.
10. Minas Basin ice shifting, buckling, making strange sculptures on the shore.
11. Magnificent bald eagles.
12. Watching the days get longer in the coldest part of the winter.
13. 

    Icing on the cake

    Shovelling the driveway with a helper who will clear up the last little bits: the sun.
14. NO mosquitoes, NO blackflies, NO no-see-ums!
15. The weather changes frequently: it’s fairly mild, and cold snaps are short, warm periods are also short.  There’s something for everyone and no time to get bored!
16. The province is small but has a variety of microclimates.  Want more snow?  Ski hills are not so far away.  Want less snow?  Go walk a deserted South Shore beach.


Ice floes

17. Memories of crazy winter antics performed when we were young and immortal: descending hills at great speed, jumping from one ice floe to another as the frozen ocean broke up (some have memories of being rescued in these situations!), “getting towed on a sled behind my dad’s car on a snow-covered gravel road, riding my bike through the streets of Halifax when the snow wasn’t too bad,” ice boating, skating on thin ice….
18. Maple syrup made in the woods.
19. 

    Alone in a drift

    Patterns made by drifting snow.

20. Winter skies unlike anything you see in the summer.
21. Eating fresh snow.
22. Cardinals and purple finches at the feeder.
23. Getting insight into the life of rabbits from their tracks in the woods.

Oak leaf shape in ice

Heading west, past Mahone Bay, on Highway 103

Turn north at Blockhouse onto the Cornwall Road

Along the Mushamush River in Middle New Cornwall

Turn left at Crossroad Farm in Upper New Cornwall. It's for sale, by the way.

West on Cross Road

Another house

Further along Cross Road, heading west

Which way now? Can't read the sign. Keep to the left.

Farm on Cross Road

Ah, here we are, at Upper Northfield.

All photos taken on Thursday, January 21, on my way to Pinehurst, just west of Upper Northfield.

The highway through New Brunswick has been greatly improved.

Some take it in stride; others would rather fly. The train is rather nice. I took the bus once – never again. But many, perhaps most, Nova Scotians have done the long drive between Nova Scotia and Ontario (once called Upper Canada) or Quebec (formerly Lower Canada) at least once. Many have gone “down the road” to seek their fortunes and return to Nova Scotia for holidays. Others make the trip regularly, in one direction or the other, with kids in tow.

But doing it in winter? Is it crazy?

We did just that for our Christmas holidays. It certainly is a bit of an adventure. The roads have been improved in recent years, but it’s still necessary to prepare for the unexpected.

Church in Batiscan, Quebec

The new toll highway through the Cobequid Pass in northern NS, which shortens the trip, was closed for 14 hours overnight a couple of years ago during a snowstorm. Imagine a family travelling in a car getting stuck for that period of time. My sister was once delayed for 3 days in northern New Brunswick, in the snow belt between Fredericton and Rivière-du-loup, with her dog. You also have to deal with heavy truck traffic, constantly spraying your windshield and dictating your speed.

The alternative, flying, is iffy too, if your goal is to be “home for Christmas” as I learned by experience years ago. Flights are often delayed by weather, and it is an expensive time of year to fly, especially for a family.

The long drive: just relax and enter the Zone.

So we got our VW diesel Jetta into excellent running order, checked the snow tires, packed provisions and entertainment in case we were delayed en route and had to tuck into a motel for a few days, carried bedding for warmth in case we were stranded by the side of the road, packed extra motor oil and wiper fluid, and even a spare battery, just in case.

Long distance sailors say that if you want to meet up with them, they can promise you a time or a place, but not both. A long winter driving trip is a bit like that. Most of the time, the roads are fine. So we kept our fingers crossed, while preparing for whatever would be thrown our way.

We were lucky this time, with smooth sailing all the way. If we’d returned home one day earlier or later, we’d have found ourselves in a blizzard.

Nature's air filters stand on guard for us the day after a blizzard hit New Brunswick.

Out of the water slide and into the pool at top speed, at the Edmundston Best Western Hotel, a great reward for kids after a long drive.

Edmundston, New Brunswick, is a good overnight stopping place for those who aren’t inclined to drive straight through the night. Several hotels cater to people traveling through. Sitting in the hot tub at the Best Western, I chatted with other Nova Scotians, heading either east or west, while our kids enjoyed the water slide. I felt part of a special club of hardy pilgrims keeping alive our family ties and connections to “home”.

This one shows how tide and temperature create an ever-changing landscape on Mahone Bay’s shoreline, from first frost to spring breakup.

The music is an Appalachian tune called Frosty Morning, played by Dennis Robinson on fiddle and Heather Holm (that’s me) on accordion.

The ice that yesterday filled the cove has floated out to sea. The Oak Island Inn (which is not on Oak Island, but overlooks it) is in the distance.

As soon as the ice had melted, the bufflehead ducks that had all winter occupied the other side of the causeway, the side that didn't freeze, gleefully (I imagine) took possession of the newly open water.

Just after the tide starts to recede.

I stood and watched the tide start to go out, leaving traces in the snow to mark how high it had been, ice crystals transformed by the brief caress of the ocean.

Sheltered inlets are still iced in.

It turned out to be a beautiful sunny day with temperatures well above freezing.  We have a lot of snow and ice for that sun to melt.  Still, it feels like spring on a day like this.  Some people find this time of year difficult in Nova Scotia, when daffodils are blooming in Victoria on the “other coast”.  Others relish the cold temperatures and make the most of it.  As for me, I’ve usually had my nose buried in my work at this time of year and this year is no exception.  And I’m grateful for that.