On Wednesday it snowed in Toronto. It wasn’t a big deal, but when you’re inside looking out and listening to all the calamitous reports, it’s easy to drink the Kool-Aid and think the city is coming to an icy end. With that in mind, I called a cab instead of walking the 15 minutes to a nearby restaurant.
When I got into the taxi I was startled by how pleasant it actually was outside. The weather, if I had to describe it, was rather gentle and I was entirely embarrassed to have thought there was some sort of storm thundering around outside.
I told this to the driver, explaining that I was originally from Ottawa where winter was a bare-knuckled punch to the face and there, I wouldn’t have even noticed this little snow shower. He laughed, “Yeah, I know what you mean, man. I’m from Calgary and winter is a different game altogether. I used to be a trucker out there and often when you’re driving, you’re in the wilderness, and when you come across the mountains, well, I tell you, it’s something else. It’s like they have their own weather systems. You’re alone on the road and you feel absolutely tiny before them, and all around you, everywhere you look, just blankets of snow, snow covering everything! I actually found it eerie, and when a storm swept in off one of those mountains, oh boy! Suddenly, and I mean this, you couldn’t see a thing, complete whiteout, and there was nobody there to help you! Just keep your hands on the wheel, your eyes open, hope there’s no avalanche. It really felt like nature was just going to swallow you up and vanish you from the face of the earth. And keep in mind, I was driving a huge rig, but hell, that was just a toy in comparison. I swear, I never felt so vulnerable or mortal, and after awhile I couldn’t take it, which is why I took up driving a cab. I feel safe in the city, this,” he gestured to the outdoors, “this shit is nothing.”
The bus negotiates the winter night:
a flickering ship in the pine forest
on a road as narrow and deep as a dead canal.
Few passengers: some old, some very young.
If it stopped and switched off its lights
the world would be deleted.
-Thomas Tranströmer
Part V of Winter’s Code
(Thanks to Brodie Bigold for bringing the poem to my attention)
Comments
2 responses to “Whiteout”
Michael, when we start our band it shall be “The Dead Canals”. That was easy. Ordering tshirts now.
Rob:
You will be our axman extraordinaire. You will have the liberty to take 7 minute solos. I will experiment with my “Found Sound” samples. I will ask Rachelle if she can design something so we have some merch to sell at our first gig.