Originally uploaded by Black Heart Magazine
You know how people always claim that the Inuit (or “Eskimos,” as less-than-racially-sensitive Americans call them) have thousands of different words for snow? I think it’s a myth, or at least an exaggeration, but in any case, people from Down South are always asking me about Montreal winters. “How bad is it?” they want to know.
Here’s how bad.
It’s snowing fat flakes right now, the big juicy kind that go “plop!” in your face and make your glasses all wet and blurry. The kind that stick. The kind that are good for balling up and throwing at people, if you’re into that sort of thing, or for making snowmen or falling backwards into and making an angel.
I may not have thousands of words for snow, but I’ve got lots of different ways to describe snow, for sure.
It’s -11 (C). That’s +12 (F). And yes, I do like talking about the weather. Maybe it’s boring to some people, but those people just don’t get it.
