These past few days here in the city we have experienced quite a chill, reminding us how cold these winter months can hold us with its strong grip.
I had the fortunate opportunity to have moments I call "quiet silences". I had met up with a friend of mine, having come from Montreal, and the afternoon was wonderful as we were able to make a trip down to the St. Lawrence Market- something I have not done since leaves were beginning to fall from the trees and snow had not made its graceful presence known.
There was also another factor which enlightened the day: the thick clumps of snow that were falling... carefully, everywhere descending.
Light-hearted conversations were inevitable over walnut-chocolate cake and perogies. It gave me an overwhelming sense of peace to be able to enjoy weekends doing something heartfelt, where weekdays are steeped in non-stop classes, work and moments that define busyness in between.
As early evening came down upon us, we made the trip to go down by the Harbourfront.
Again, snow was descending in clusters, providing everyone an extra layer of white on their hair, coats, hats, and mitts.
As we slowly approached the lake, there was an eery sense of calm, the view in front of me gave me the atmosphere of entering into an abandoned landscape.
Ships loomed, frozen in slumber, giving a ghostly appearance. The lake beyond was white, and I could barely make out what was beyond the distant, where grey, blue and the white mix of snow gave the air of a dream-like feel- as if the ground where we crossed at the intersection to reach the border where land touches water, was moving itself, that we were pulling out on the open icy waters.
At that moment when we were crossing at the light with the heavy drifting of snow dancing all around us my friend says to me, "It is as if we are in Minsk..."
I couldn't have said it better myself.
Photo by me- an image of what it looked like by the lake.
We arrived at the local coffee shop that is situated by the lake, where I came many times during the summer, as it gives off the quality of a lake house sort of feel. During the winter, it does give the air of a cottage/lodge feel, with a fireplace, couches and the wooden interior.
With our coffee and apple cider, I came across a nice setting that gave the view of the open lake, hovered with a couple of boats on dock. Night was falling, and so it brought a beautiful quiet feeling, looking past the pane of windows and out onto the frosty cold landscape.
Even now when I find myself catching a second or two of daydreaming, I can't help but recall that memory.
What a difference a season can change the appearance of places where you had such fond memories in previous engagements, yet the emotional release of resplendence remains intact.
Evenings hold the most promising of re-awakenings- this I found to be the most pleasurable of all in Life.
Joie de vivre,
Note: Apart from the photo credited by me, other images are via weheartit