A very long experience of snow

Many feet of snow nearly hide the steps to the back-yard bunky (cottage) at my sister Betty's place in the Laurentians in Quebec. She and her husband Bert are into their fifth month of snow, and there's lots more to come.

Molly with snow and trees near Betty's place. What more could a dog wish for?

Betty's husband Bert with a pile of the snow cleared so far from the roof of the car shed. 

Who's a happy dog, then? Molly clutches her toy despite her immersion in snow. 

Amused, perhaps, by my account of Vancouver's days-long brush with snow, my sister Betty sent me some reminders on Saturday of what winter is like in her part of the world.

She and her husband Bert and their dog Molly live in a small house in the Quebec Laurentians, surrounded by trees and lakes and other small houses. They always have lots of snow, but Betty says this year has been unusual, competing with a massive dump in 2008. The snow began at the end of October and is falling still. Icy rain has compacted it over the months, but it's four feet high on the roof of a shed they don't clear. Betty figures they've had at least five feet. So far.

Along with the snow have been stretches of temperatures in the -20s, with wind chills into the -30s. "That means you strap on your ice cleats before stepping out the door because the layers of ice and snow can be treacherous," Betty writes. "I feel like Spiderman sometimes when the road is frozen solid and the cleats dig in and make my footing sure." She says modern winter gear is "pretty amazing," and as long as you go out fully armoured, you can actually enjoy the outdoors.

Molly loves the snow, plunging in with gusto and plowing paths through the snowbanks. "She barks excitedly when we shovel snow and writhes in the air chasing it," Betty says. "She is made for snow with her double coat." But even she needs protection sometimes. "A couple of days were so cold that we put Molly's booties on to stop her from holding up paws and whining piteously at us!"

While we in Vancouver consider snow an aberration, a temporary inconvenience that freezes our birdbaths, crushes our spring flowers and forces us to get out and -- gasp! -- shovel, it's a normal part of Betty's life.

"We live in the cold and the snow for usually around five months a year but are not unhappy. As my neighbour says, 'Embrace it!'"

But still. On Saturday, by a receding snowdrift, I saw my first dandelions of the year. A little crushed, but there they were, blooming.

The view from Betty and Bert's front window. 

All those steps leading to the back of the bunky need to be cleared regularly. 

Snow-laden trees by the roadside near Betty's place.

Meanwhile in Vancouver on Saturday, dandelions in bloom.