April 26, 2009
In Snowstorm Region, we jump right from winter into summer. One day, we’re shoveling snow; the next, we’re searching for bathing suits and sunscreen. This weekend, temperatures rose into the eighties. Like everyone else, my husband and I immediately headed outside to the nearest park, which for us is Pretty Colour Lakes.
In the winter, I can come to the lake and see not another soul. Yesterday, the parking lot was full.
On the beach, whole families were gathered: toddlers with buckets and shovels, parents with books and newspapers, teenagers in bikinis. Stern signs forbid wading or swimming, and most people were happily ignoring the signs. As we walked around the lakes, we kept coming across more people. An elderly man was fishing with his granddaughter. A young couple sat on a bench in the sun, whispering and giggling to each other. Two women were walking a dog who kept leaping into the water and then shaking droplets all over them. Yellow coltsfoot was blooming along the shore.
The bare branches of the trees provided no shade – the leaves are still wrapped in tight buds – so I actually felt hot. It felt wonderful to feel too hot. My feet are cold from about October to March, so it was great to take off my socks and sneakers comfortably. We sat on the rocks near the second lake, and I dipped my feet into the clear water.
My husband and I walked around both lakes before driving off to find something to drink -- I was thirsty for lemonade or root beer, those traditional summer beverages -- and then we returned that evening with all four kids, some sandwiches, and a couple of discs. A wind had risen, but it was a warm wind, and the air moving across my bare arms and legs felt soft.
By this morning, I noticed that the leaves on my lilac bushes were unfolding. The seasons have shifted.
Posted by jo(e)