Couple weekends ago, I was extra lucky to be invited to my friend’s cottage. This cottage happened to be less than a stone’s throw away from where I grew up. This is a very special overlap because nobody – nobody – knows where that place is.
The cottage is set far back on a side road, surrounded by trees. It was dark when we arrived on Friday night so I didn’t get a real sense of my surroundings until I woke the next morning.
It was stunning, beautiful, dazzling: The sun suspended high and brilliant in the sky, powdery snow sparkling. Evergreen boughs hung heavy with snow. Snowmobiles ripped across the frozen lake.
Winter is worth it in the country. Frigid temperature makes sense when there is snow on the ground. In Toronto, we have all the wind and cold and lack of daylight of winter but none of the beauty. That’s what makes Toronto so awful in the winter.
Maybe all we need is a little sunshine bouncing off a fresh snowfall to make us feel better. No ray is wasted, it is all amplified by the snow. I had been pretty down for a couple weeks before I went to the cottage but felt cured by the time we came home. It seems the country is a tonic.
If only I could figure out how to make a living in the country. It doesn’t seem unreasonable to live there anymore.