Orlando's Ottawa

Winter has arrived in a way that reminds me of the opening scenes of Virgina Woolf's "Orlando."
Ottawa is frozen over. We received about 25 cms of snow last night and a nice hard candy shell of ice rain as well. We are firmly into the season.

To add to the anachronistic atmosphere, last night Ottawa's mass transit workers went on strike. The city has lost one of its main traffic arteries, a bridge that links Quebec and Ontario just west of Parliament Hill. The act of moving from one part of the city to another has gone from being something you do without giving it much thought to being a deliberate, complex act of will. It is very quiet on the streets without the busses - the lazy part of me might miss them but the better part is glad they're gone.

To move around Ottawa you have two choices; walk or take a car. Since I no longer own a car I chose to call a taxi this morning and will walk home this afternoon. The taxi took over 2 hours to arrive. I am, however, looking forward to the walk. It is sunny and -7 C outside (21 F ). At the moment the snow is drifting down lightly through the sunshine - it is all very lovely.

Even if I did still have a car, it really wouldn't matter much. Regardless of how you choose to proceed from point A to point B you will not be doing so at a rate of more than 10 K an hour in Ottawa, especially between the hours of 7 - 10 a.m. and 4 - 6 p.m. a lot like Elizabethan England.

In this kind of situation your world becomes smaller and more fully detailed. Like looking at a painting, from a distance you may get a better sense of the composition but all the details are up close.

I am meeting my neighbors, learning more about the people in my neighborhood. Talking to the shopkeepers, making more eye contact with people - in this weather we must look out for each other. Perhaps best of all, I am aware of the degree of my self-sufficiency. The money I make goes directly into my neighborhood now. As I walk home I have the choice of stopping at the neighborhood Western European grocer, the South American grocer, most of the city's Asian grocers, the Italian grocer or, a little further along, the Quebecois bargain basement. I realize I am blessed. Shopping by flyers, deciding to take a bus to get the best price on something - those actions are a thing of the past. Really, those behaviors were adopted by me under peer pressure. I'm happier without them

Today I will walk home. I will time my walk to coincide with the sunset. My apartment is due west of the downtown core. I will buy some provisions on the way and carry them home myself gaining a bit of very welcome exercise in the process. It might cost me $5 more - the benefits are more than worth it.

The white snow will sparkle in the setting sun. The sky will go from blue and white to rose and indigo. The snow will crunch and slide a little under my feet but I won't slip. It will feel good to carry the things I need home under my own steam. And it will feel very good to know that the old cliche is true: as long as I have my health, I am fully capable of taking care of the rest myself.

Ottawa is frozen now. In a few months we will have winterlude to celebrate that fact and until the thaw my feet will not touch the ground. Everything hovers. Everything is light.