In the city a few steps from the terminus station of the Metro you can see this beauty. We finally have a cold snap. Some people were congratulating themselves on such a “mild” winter. I don’t like that sort of winter. A Quebec winter should be a little menacing. There should be a few nights when one looks out of the window and thinks, “An animal or a person could die out there tonight.” By “should be” I don’t mean I want any living creature freezing to death, but a January night deserves to have that aura of power.
Already the sun is strong enough to melt ice and snow on the road’s black-top. When a gentle breeze picks up, however, it elicits a little gasp from anyone strolling around admiring the beauties of nature.
This little brook is beautiful. The force of the water running under the bridge is enough to stop ice completely forming over the shallow stream. The rocks are still wearing their snow caps. Some grasses, pale and swaying are ghosts of their green summer selves.
Crossing over the second bridge, I see a strange sort of frost flower, frost flake has formed on a thin ice sheet. It’s enough to stop for a moment, look properly before taking a picture and continue on a morning walk. The forecast says very cold tonight. This is the sort of night when one opens the kitchen cupboards so that the pipes don’t freeze. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ve had enough of plumbers for a while. Winter is showing its teeth. Beautiful but brutal she demands homage for the icy brook and the frost blooms. She likes us to bow down in trepidation.