You're in Canada on the Great Lakes? Where abouts? I grew up in Michigan, only a block from Lake Huron, in Alpena, in the northern part of the State. And I went to University in Marquette, up on Lake Superior. Yeah, the snow is something I really miss. Folks here in Scotland ask me if I miss summer, but I actually miss winter. They look at me as if I've lost my marbles. Well, I have, probably ...but this isn't a symptom! I do relate to the dreary spring issue, though. All those grey diminishing snow piles. Yrugh. Here in Scotland, spring is the best time. I mean, it's great. That's when I do appreciate being here, weather-wise. Nothing to shovel or melt. Just warmer days, longer days, everything greens up early, lots of flowers, no midges yet....perfect....
On the Bruce Peninsula - the little bit sticking up between Georgian Bay and the rest of Lake Huron. Just about due east of Alpena, it looks like!
We would have had the same kind of winters then, I reckon. Have you lived there all your life? It was always on my bucket list (never fulfilled) to take a leisurely trip to Georgian Bay and environs. The pictures I see of that part of Ontario make me really fancy it a lot. I loved the area around Alpena, but it's got so built up. I fancy the Georgian Bay area being similar, but more unspoiled.
We're getting pretty built up around here these days, too... still some wild spots, but too tourist-y for my taste! We're too close to the cities. The north end of Georgian Bay is still lovely and wild, though. Sigh. (I bet it'd be LOVELY to spend Christmas up there - lots of snow and evergreens)
I grew up in MN, still live there. Christmas as a kid was wonderful. All the baking and decorating, presents under the tree! The anticipation. On the 24th, we would go to church my mother and I were always involved in the music. After church we would load up the car for the trek to Grandparents dairy farm. To get to their home, we would have to turn off the main highway and it was a couple of miles to the farm. There was a hill, if it was snowy and icy we would grit our teeth and pray to make it up that hill. We always did! From the top of the hill you could see the lights on the farmhouse. Once there we would unload the car, food and presents galore. There were Aunts, Uncles and Cousins all gathered for a delicious meal. After we cleaned up the dishes and the cows were all milked we would settle in to open presents. Of course we would read from the Bible and say a prayer first! Presents were parceled out one by one so we could relish the opening, the oohing and aahing. Grandma always wanted to see each item. We'd take a break and Grandpa would have a little snort of brandy and make that face. Only time I ever saw him with a drink, it was only a shot nothing more. Grandma would have 1/2 a glass of wine and declare that she was "out of it". There is more of course to the tale but this gives you an idea. As I grew up, started my own family we have our own traditions but some we keep.
That's a feeling I can get behind. When I was in The States, especially when I was in Arkansas, the winters were a lot different than I was used to and after the novely had worn off, I'd get this weird feeling that kept growing until I went back to my parents for the holidays. Then it's 5am, I'm trying to get the truck started so I can plough the drive so the family can get to church, but it's' too cold to catch and it's too far from the house to plug it in because I parked it like an idiot. So out there with with a tiger torch to the oil pan, only problem is it's too cold for the propane to boil, so I keep having to alternate between heating the propane tank and the truck instead of just propping it up and heading inside. I'm sitting there looking at my cup of coffee sitting on the bumper as it reflects my soul, ice crystals starting to form around the edges, and I just get this overwhelming feeling of HOME that I had been missing down south with your survivable winter weather and your confusing football traditions. I've got a former brother in law that works as a boiler maker on the nuclear plants down there. He and my sister were living in Sarnia for a bit. I've got another sister on Manitoulin Island, so I used to do the drive through there after catching the ferry at Tobermory every once in a while. Absolutely beautiful country side.
I was going to say something bitchy about it - "just a bunch of stunted trees and rocks", or something like that - but I could live just about anywhere in the world and I'm living here, so... yeah. There's something about the place I like, obviously! I grew up in Ontario and then moved out to Vancouver, and I lived there for eight years and would STILL get startled by the mountains, sometimes. Damn things just sitting there, eating up too much of the sky, looming over me... I could see how beautiful they were, objectively, but they weren't the landscape that resonated for me. I guess I'm a stunted-trees-and-rocks kinda girl, deep down.
That's kind of what I like about it. So much nicer than dirty clay rivers and muskeg littered with half-dead tamarak. Your trees also change colour in the fall. We have some poplars, oaks, ash up here, but aside from the occasional imported maple, they generally just go from green to brown. Down there fall seems to last longer than just a few hours.
I can so relate to that mountain thing. They are beautiful indeed ...and I've been all through the Rockies to Vancouver on the CPR many years ago. But they are not me. I feel hemmed in and uncomfortable when they are too near. To the extent that I gave that characteristic to one of the characters in my book. He learns to appreciate them, and the fact that they are a part of the landscape he's living in now, but he gets the urge to rise above them as well, and longs to be able to 'see' in all directions again. I remember getting off the train in Banff and thinking "Yikes. Holy Shit. Nope. Not for me." I loved growing up so near Lake Huron, because it was an endless vista, unbroken by anything else. On land, of course, there were so many trees that I couldn't see very far, and I looked forward to any vista opening up out in the countryside, when I was out and about. One Canadian place I really enjoyed traveling through was Saskatchewan and eastern Alberta ...just briefly. I LOVED that open sky and the fact that I could see for MILES. I also loved the trek around Lake Superior and western Ontario and into Manitoba—the Canadian Shield. Totally mesmerising for me. I enjoyed being in Winnipeg, and would love to return for a more lengthy visit in that part of the country. I also absolutely LOVE Nova Scotia—spent 12 days there, back in 2002—and would go back there in a minute, if I could. At least in Scotland the mountains (or 'hills' as they are referred to) are not so high or intimidating. I've been to the top of several, including the tallest, Ben Nevis. I don't have any too near to where I live, but at the top of my road I can see Ben Lomond and The Cobbler in the distance, and the other Arrochar Alps—and nearer, just north of Glasgow, the Campsie hills that form a more or less straight line of elevated ground. But they are way in the distance. Meanwhile, the whole Clyde Valley opens up below us ...I can see to Motherwell from my front window and to Glasgow if I just walk to the bottom of my road. I like to be able to see a long way, even if it's mostly an urban landscape. The city lights, that form a 'river' along the Clyde, make quite a sight after dark. Almost like a permanent Christmas display. I'm quite fond of that Canadian group of artists referred to as "The Group of Seven," (How no-nonsense, unpretentious Canadian is THAT name, eh?) Many of the pictures they produced contain the stunted trees and rocks that resonate with me as well as yourself, @BayView . In fact, I have a screensaver on my computer that contains many of those paintings. I think most of them were created of landscapes further east, along the St Lawrence, etc. But at the same time, they seem familiar to me. A few of them could easily portray Alpena County, Presque-Isle County and the area around the Mackinaw Bridge.
