Spring without the annual ice break-up is now just a rapid melt with sluggish ice slushing around. I can’t remember the last time I witnessed a real ice break-up – maybe a half century ago.
In those days it seemed to be of Ice Age stature strongly composed of six months of freezing. As the ice melted, the brave ones continued to use it until it was ready to crack and heave downriver in a cascade of energy. The air boomed with the noise of crushing ice as miles and miles of it flowed towards James Bay.
Scenes like this probably only remain in the memories of those who knew the images of life before development. Development always had some trade off. The lands and waters were for convenience and there was more time to do things, other than just staying alive season by season. Today the ice is barely fit to be called ice anymore.
A good friend noted recently as he flew over the nearby lands, there’s water everywhere now and lots of it. Hopefully some of that will drown the still burning roots of last summer’s fires. Maybe we should start worrying about tornadoes now as they seem to nip at the lower parts of our territory.
On another note, hockey is winding down and the energies that kept us rooted in winter are now being honed for warmer activities. Some triathlons are being arranged, and the hustle to set up fishing derbies will surface very soon. I would suggest that after a derby the catch be donated to those living in the south, those who need shelter, or to the good old Eeyou meechum in long-term hospital care.
Then there will be the search for the fastest softball pitcher and background searches for imports to increase your odds of strikes against the other team. I checked into softball and it’s a popular sport in Canada, especially for our First Nations peoples. So, get that pitching arm well-toned and go to batting practice instead of bingo or other couch potato activities. Get a coach, if not a player import. That’s about all I can say about softball.
There’s a whole slew of outdoor activity for those in the city, especially Montreal. Walking downtown is the only way to get around the place, as construction hurdles abound everywhere, and the infamous orange cones direct your every step. Plus, keeping your eye open for parking spaces is becoming a summer sport, albeit frustrating when you have to walk a half mile to get to any shop or restaurant downtown.
As far as walking in the North, the mosquito and blackfly will determine the best time to go for a jog or to the local corner store. I wonder if the cost of insect repellent will increase as the greedy take advantage of your precious blood supply and hold it for ransom with outrageous sticker prices.
Then again, you could go golfing instead.