Going for a place in the records
Our species loves the record process. Highest, fastest, farthest; as long as there’s been a historical record there’s been a line to cross. How about those seven wonders? Guinness (the beer or the book)? Olympics? I’m involved in a more home-grown contest this year, and today the newspaper confirmed it. We have the greatest snowfall in the city’s history (400 years and counting). As of this morning the “snow-dometer” shows 460 centimeters since back in late November 2007.
Unlike some of the other cities where I have family or friends, we’ve also missed the fluctuations in temperature that melt parts of the white wealth, so our street has never had a deeper accumulation. I can’t resist a photo to emphasize the scale of the banks. (Taken after work this afternoon)
The experts from Environment Canada are full of encouragement; we receive 20% of the yearly snowfall during March. With more due tonight and the traditional St. Pat’s dustup almost a week away, it could make for an interesting story to tell to the next generation. “Why, I remember when there was so much snow that the neighbour was pushing it into my driveway at dawn, when he thought I wouldn’t notice”.
Since we like records, let’s now try to melt it away in record time. After all, I live uphill from a large river that has been dropping in level. The banks of snow are quickly reaching the top of the cedar hedges in the neighbourhood and birdnests are now in need of shovels. The idea of chasing the dog down from the roof is now a firm possibility. As I stepped down from the driveway into the front porch of the house. Etc. etc. The joke is no longer funny.
