Winter Beauty... Photographs by Nina Munteanu

 

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

When Snow Dazzles...

I grew up in southern Quebec, where the first snow of the season often came from the sky in a thick passion. Huge flakes of unique beauty settled on my coat sleeves and within minutes I was covered in snow. I would stand enraptured and study each one as I could. Snow wraps everything in a blanket of soft acceptance. It creates a dazzling face on a dark Earth. It refuses to distinguish between artificial and natural. It covers everything—decorated house, shabby old car, willowy trees, manicured lawn—beneath its white mantle. It quiets the Earth.

Have you ever gone for an evening walk in the fresh crisp snow, boots crunching, snow glistening in the moonlight? Each step is its own symphony of textured sound. A kind of collaboration with the deep of the night and Nature’s own whisperings.

Snow is a shape shifter, charging down in a fierce blizzard and as glittering hoarfrost that forms on cold, clear nights. Snow is a gypsy, conspiring with the clever wind to form mini-tornadoes and swirling on the cold pavement like misbehaving fairies. It drifts like a vagabond and piles up, cresting over the most impressive structure, creating phantoms out of icons. Some people, fearful of the chaos and confusion that snow brings, hide indoors out of the cold. Others embrace its many forms, punching holes through the snow crust to find the treasure of powder beneath or ploughing through its softness, leaving behind an ivory trail of adventure.

Snow is magic. It reveals as it cloaks. Animals leave their telltale tracks behind their silent sleuthing. No two snowflakes are alike. Yet every non-aggregated snowflake forms a six-fold radial symmetry, based on the hexagonal alignment of water molecules when they form ice. Tiny perfectly shaped ice-flowers drift down like world peace and settle in a gentle carpet of white. Oddly, a snowflake is really clear and colourless. It only looks white because the whole spectrum of light bounces off the crystal facets in diffuse reflection (i.e., at many angles). My son, who skies, extols “champagne powder”—very smooth and dry snow, ideal for gliding on. On powder days, after a fresh snowfall, mountain trees form glabrous Henry Moore-like sculptures. Skiers wind their way between the “snow ghosts,” leaving meandering double-helix tracks behind them.

Snow is playful. It beckons you to stick out your tongue and taste the clouds. Snow is like an unruly child. Snow is the trickster. It stirs things up. Makes a mess. It is the herald of change, invigorating, fresh and wondrous. Cars skid in it and squeal with objection. Grumpy drivers honk their horns, impatient to get home; while others sigh in their angry wake. Brown slush flies in a chaotic fit behind a bus and splatters your new coat. Boys and girls of all ages venture outside, mischief glinting in their eyes, and throw snowballs. Great battles are fought in backyards where children build awesome forts and defend them with fierce determination.

In the end, snow—a solid form of water—remains implacable, untouched by our spurious activities. It lies beyond our tedious attempts to salt it, dirty it, move it or make it, turn it into slush, sublimate it or even desublimate it. Snow, like the water it is, cannot be ‘owned’ or kept. Ultimately, it will do its job to energize the earth, give life, then quietly transform, take its leave, and move on. Along with its various water cousins, it will move mountains particle by particle with a subtle hand; it will paint the world with beauty then return to its fold and rejoice; it will transcend time and space to share and teach and transform a world.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

When Snow Turns Into Passion...

 

It started with a sudden hail then light snow followed by sunshine. But even as the sun shone, more snow fell. The stubborn river kept glinting in the sunlight. Huge flakes fluttered down and the river sparkled. Some trees lit up like torches behind the thick snowflakes. 

When I got to the marsh, the snow came down in a passion and the wind picked up. Huge flakes fell in a slant and covered the thin ice on the marsh edges. It covered the ducks, their backs full of snow, who ignored it all and just clucked and quacked and drifted close to me in curiosity. 

The clouds grew dark. Then the snow filled the sky and I could barely see the trees as I walked through the forest… 

By the time I made it to the path by the river, the snow was seized by a fierce wind and flew sideways.

Then, suddenly, like a hand on a shoulder, it all stopped. The wind and the snow. The sun emerged behind a dark scudding cloud and lit the water, now calm in the beauty after the storm.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas

Today is Christmas! I'm back in Vancouver for a while to spend Christmas with my son and friends. It's balmy here. We drove country up to Whistler to find snow. It reminded me of a snowy Christmas I'd had several years ago in Vancouver and here's what I posted...

...A few days ago, on the Winter Solstice, a dump of snow covered the Earth in white billows. Huge flakes drifted down from heaven like confetti in a breeze.

We are having a white Christmas—the first in over ten years here in Vancouver (on the west coast of British Columbia, Canada). And I love it.

I love how the snow wraps everything in a blanket of soft acceptance. How it creates a dazzling face on a dark Earth. How it refuses to distinguish between artificial and natural. It covers everything—decorated house, shabby old car, willowy trees, manicured lawn—beneath its white mantle. I love how it quiets the Earth. Have you ever gone for a walk in the fresh snow? Boots crunching… snow glistening in the moonlight…

Snow is magic.

It reveals as it cloaks. Animals leave their telltale tracks behind their silent sleuthings.

Snow is playful.

It beckons you to stick out your tongue and taste the clouds. Snow is like an unruly child. Snow is the trickster. It stirs things up. Makes a mess. It is the herald of change, invigorating, fresh and wondrous. Cars skid in it and squeal with objection. Grumpy drivers honk their horns, impatient to get home; while others sigh in their angry wake. Boys (of all ages) venture outside, mischief glinting in their eyes, and throw snowballs. Others, fearful of the chaos and confusion that snow brings, hide indoors out of the cold.

Snow is Christmas.

It brings out the best and the worst in people. The Christmas season—whether you are a Christian celebrating the birth of Jesus or of another faith celebrating the season of Joy and Giving—provides each of us with the opportunity to be exactly who we are and who we are meant to be. It is a time to be genuine. A time to be sincere. A time to be REAL. A time to make the best of our lot and be thankful: whether we are celebrating a turkey feast with a family we don’t get along with, alone in a new town, or working the night shift in a busy firm. It is a time to be thankful for the gifts we have been blessed with, even the hardships. Especially the hardships. For they are ours to carry. Ours to make into something wonderful.


MERRY CHISTMAS everyone!

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of novels, short stories and essays. She coaches writers and teaches writing at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. For more about Nina’s coaching & workshops visit www.ninamunteanu.me. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for more about her writing.