The days were cool. And then chill. Now they are downright cold. The nights turn bitter after dark.


The other day, sitting in Freshies we joked how after the first 20 below snap hits, this will seem balmy. Today, it seems really really cold. Funny, the adaptation to winter. How we stubbornly keep one foot stuck in summer and fall.


The other day, leaving Overweightea late in the evening, I walked along behind four or five kids obviously newly arrived for the winter. They’d just come out of the liquor store and were on their way to an evening of revelry. To be brutally accurate, they already were well into an evening of revelry and were merely re-fueling. Flats of beer. A couple of jugs in paper bags. All good. It was cold. The snow could not be far behind and with that the opening of the hill. A valid excuse to party. They laughed among themselves as they walked across the parking lot and down the street.

The bars are filling with young people here for a gap year, for a gap couple years or maybe a gap decade or two.

In five, maybe ten years, one of the newbies may run for city council or open a shop on Victoria. Or have taken their experiences here in town an written a critically acclaimed book as with John Vigna and Bull Head who recently read at the Clawhammer Press and Gallery.

At the same time, the nights are cold. They spritz snow. The truck hesitates half a beat and then starts. Wondering when will you plug it in and keep it oh so warm with the block heater.

The Fernie Ski and Board Film Fest was a couple of nights ago. Filling the Community Center with ski and board aficionados, on the edge of their seats watching skiers and boarders drop the Chugash.

And then this morning, snow over all.

Winter’s cards lie face up on the table.

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