This has been one of those days that I just cannot get warm.
Cold I can deal with. Snow I can deal with. Mix it with damp water drenched slush falling from the heavens…claiming to be snow…reminds me of how good the winters were in my hometown of Calgary.
It may be colder there, but it is a dry cold…and though that statement has become something of a Canadian joke, that makes a huge difference. Also, they have the chinooks…the warm winds from the west that sweep in off the mountains and can turn temps on their ears in minutes.
Another thing people do not realize is that it gets a lot of sunny days. Admittedly, in early January, there is only about face or six hours of daylight…thanks to proximity to the Rocky Mountains, the sun vanishes early during the winter months. In the summer, however, the sun is up until 22:00 sometimes.
The city, now, is twice the size as when my family left for Colorado. Calgary is now more than a million souls. The city’s landmark would still be the Calgary Tower, but I believe it is now the fifth tallest building in the city. So far as cities go, there is no more beautiful shot than Calgary’s skyline with the backdrop of the Rockies.
Still home to the world’s largest rodeo, the Calgary Stampede…it has since become the engineering hub for what is going on in the Alberta oil sands, roughly fourteen hours drive north.
Since I left as a ten year old, the city has hosted the Winter Olympics…won one Cup of Stanley and a few of Grey…and still the cowboys reign.
Probably why I still wear a cowboy hat, myself…a little reminder of home. And with this wet cold mucky evening, I could sure use a chinook…or at least a drier cold. This is my 25th winter in Toronto, but as the cliche goes…you can take the boy out of Calgary…but you cannot take the dreams of a ten year old Rocky Mountain cowboy out of the man.