I remember a March or two wherein the sun shone and the clouds parted. Today? Today it dumped snow.
I don’t know about you, but my feeling is that photos like these should not be possible in March. Sure, in Saskatchewan or Minnesota, but in the Fraser Valley of British Columbia? Actually, I think it was warmer in Saskatoon today than it was here in Chilliwack.
Stupid global warming.
Nice photography weather, though.
It dumped snow over the last couple of days, as though Winter is screaming out to make sure we don’t forget about it as Spring approaches. Thankfully, it’s been mostly on the surrounding mountains. Here’s some fresh snow on Sumas Mountain.
So, this is one of the most frustrating topics from the WordPress Photo Challenge. I don’t know exactly what to do with “Regret“. There are many photo challenges where I’ve felt just that – challenged. But this? Well, here goes.
Now, if I make some decisions that I wish I hadn’t made, take action in the wrong direction and wish that I’d acted in a different way, then I feel regret. If I conduct myself in my relationships in a way that breaks trust, that is unethical or immoral, then I feel regret. If I leave my house without telling my kids and wife that I love them and live everyday as though it might be my last (because it might be), then I will feel regret.
But I see decisions and actions as footsteps in the snow. Let me see if I can explain this. When snow falls, there’s that moment where everything is pristine, untouched. But there comes the time when someone takes a step into the snow. There’s steps and missteps, there’s dirt tracked in and grass that suddenly shows. There are those snow angels that never quite look angelic, but there was an attempt by some little devil to make himself better for a moment.
Here’s the cool part. None of these things are permanent. The snow melts. Or new snow falls and covers everything over. If I live with regrets, I spend all my time thinking about all those things that are left in the snow. Even when they’ve been covered. Even when they’ve faded and disappeared.
My philosophy? Don’t live with regrets. Make more angels. Have fun making new steps in pristine snow.
I grew up in Saskatchewan. Well, until I was fourteen, that is. I lived on a farm outside of a village called Osler, about 35 kilometers north of Saskatoon. The landscape is as flat as you can imagine and the snowdrifts are colossal.
The drive home, yesterday, was not horrible, but certainly reminded me of my youthful days. The mountains disappeared behind a wall of snow and the prairie came alive in front of me. I even managed to get a photo of a pickup truck – the official vehicle of the Saskatchewan farm.
This is what it looked like to drive to work this morning. My school, and district, had a snow day but the teachers did not have the day off, so off I went. My friend and colleague, Kris, and I drove to work in his truck. It was kind of nice, if treacherous. I’m not looking forward to going to school tomorrow as the weather and roads haven’t really changed, but I guess I’ll wait and see how everything turns out.
On the way home, we were treated to the undercarriage of a semi-truck and an overturned Ford Explorer. The safety gear stood out nicely against the snow.
How’s the winter driving for you? I hope it’s better than this.