17 Feb Melt like Queen Anne’s Lace

One of the unspoken conditions of serendipity is answering “YES” when an opportunity presents itself. Writing about the challenges and beauty of ice in the middle of a winter Olympic season was one such opportunity.

I had a different newsletter planned and prepped for this week. And then I headed out for a walk (H/T to Write While you Walk by David Perell).

The forecast was for a balmy +9C (or as we call it “Summer!” in Canada). We have barely seen temperatures above 0 for many weeks. “Do I still need my winter jacket? Can I get by with a t-shirt under my coat?” I wondered hopefully. I looked out my window. We still have the significant remains of 2+ feet of snow on the ground from that memorable storm on January 18, almost a month ago. I opted for my winter coat over fewer layers than normal and stepped out.

And almost took a header.
There was black ice — everywhere. My walk was stilted as I tried desperately not to inelegantly skate over the slicked ice and land on my behind. “Workout paused” warned my app annoyingly as I tiptoed into a slushy puddle, then around the edges of a 24-inch ice cube. The 2 feet of snow on the pathway had been worn down into slick silver ribbons over the weeks with the many kids rushing to school, the dogs being taken for their strolls, and desk-bound workers searching for a different horizon than the glowing 18″ screen normally in front of them. It looked more like an uneven ice rink with repeated thawing and freezing. And I wasn’t wearing skates!

“How do the winter Olympians do this?” My mind buzzed trying to navigate the 36 inches between me and a clear pathway. Walking on snow (and ice) requires a whole different way of muscle management. You cannot afford to walk gingerly, else “workout paused” becomes your way of life, and you remain home-bound. You have to engage your core, square your shoulders and stand up straight.

I liked the warmer temperatures. But when we see dramatic changes in temperature from -4C the day before to +9C today, it is usually accompanied by strong winds – 17km/hr in this case. I pushed along, walking into the wind.

Along the way I stepped off another ice cube into something that looked more like a giant 7/11 slurpy! Soft, mushy crystals of snow under my boots. And then … squish .. straight into an inch-deep puddle of melt camouflaged beneath the top layer of snow!

What an amazing transition of this one element – WATER. (I know. It is the simple things in life that continue to astound me!) A reminder that it is possible to co-exist in different states at the same moment.

I stopped to study it. The warmed tarmac was melting the contours of the ice bank. Drips of water were gathering, creating a little stream of water that flowed under the suspended edge. It looked beautiful. The crystal clusters clinging together, delicately spaced apart where the wind had created little air pockets remind me of the banks of white Queen Anne’s Lace that normally borders this stretch of road in the summer months.

Turning back for home, the strong wind catches my knee-length coat in the back. It propels me forward. There is a buzz in the air as the wind whips up the current of running water in a pretty pattern of ripples, accelerating the thaw.

Tomorrow should be interesting as we dip once again to -10C (yes you read that right! a 20 point temperature swing) Oh! Canada!

Write as you walk

• Does creativity visit when you are out on a walk or exercising?
• Are you watching the Winter Olympics? Which was your favourite event? What inspires you about these amazing athletes?

Edition 23 of the Tilt the Future newsletter. It is a pleasure to share these newsletters with you. And I am enjoying the conversations they generate in person, via zoom or email. See you again next week!

Karena