Dufferin Islands in Niagara Falls

January 2011

On a fresh, January afternoon last year, we went to Dufferin Islands with a peanut bottle filled with birdseed, a thermos filled with hot chocolate, and cameras filled with... available SD card space? (not quite as romantic as film, is it?) But we were prepared. I admit I was a little skeptical towards claims that birds would trust us enough to land on our mittens, but on such a bright, frosted day I really didn't want to be anywhere else.

My son trudged along the feathery path that must have seemed endless to him in the sea of whiteness. I am somewhat disappointed that my kids don't exhibit the enthusiasm and energy to play in the snow that I did when I was their age. In their defence, you can't really get into the allure of a polar climate around here. It's a pretty fleeting concept... illustrated by the fact that this weekend's offering is the most it's felt like winter since winter's exit last year!! Growing up in Labrador, Newfoundland, we knew what to expect temperature-wise and precipitation-wise, and we never had to wonder what form our precipitation would take. It was dependable. Once we were in the sub-zero groove, we were ready for it, and could adjust accordingly. We would go out, properly dressed to shield our tender skin from the biting cold, and play until lunch... or supper, depending on which quadrant of the day it was. I suppose I must have complained at the weather at one time or another, but it wasn't the norm. And I don't remember it being difficult to find something to do. We just allowed ourselves and our imagination to be swept up in winter's magical metamorphosis. We trusted it.

My kids have become victim to the information age taunting them with the next big technological wonder. Instead of marvelling at the glimmering uniqueness of a single snowflake, they marvel at the flickering possibilities of a single pixel. I'm not saying it's anyone's fault, it's just evolution... and it's happening to everyone, not just children. But I know this: I remember my childhood. I wonder how much today's children will remember of theirs... will they be able to discern what was real as opposed to what happened virtually? Will they hold specific experiences close to their heart or will it all meld together?

It is because of our synthetic world and its pull to keep my kids indoors when it's cold out that I seize any opportunity to expose them to special moments in the snow. It only took a few moments of patience and a still, flat, mitted palm to entice a nuthatch to perch for a snack. This wasn't a staged event or a trained creature; it was real and magical and awesome... it induced awe in my son... so much so that he still talks about that afternoon when the birds ate seeds from his hand.