IlluminAqua's Hibernation

This is where IlluminAqua's vibrant concert series takes place in Welland during the summer months. Under a fresh application of snow, its curving benches almost appear abstract and you can really appreciate the beauty of the design.

That's one of the beautiful things about snow: the way it changes the landscape so what you are accustomed to seeing appears very different. It must be sad to live down south where there is no change of the seasons, no reset button on the routines of our lives.

It's easy for me to say this now because I love snow and I love winter. And because I am invigorated by fresh, crisp winter air, I am more comfortable getting outside for activity in December than in July, thanks to the thick, muggy air we must navigate around here in the summer months.

This was the first major snowfall of 2013, taken on Wednesday, November 27. I typically go for a run along these gorgeous canal lands, but on this particular day, I decided to take it a little slower and bring my camera along for the excursion.

The snow that fell overnight was so thick and damp that it clung to everything it touched. Bare tree branches were adorned with thick, white highlights, giving them a fresh, pristine quality. They stood out like works of art against the darker apartment buildings and churches in the area. Ordinary shrubs were transformed into tidy topiaries and everything from fences to street signs were painted in the cleanest, brightest white.

Not only does the appearance of the thick snow produce a smooth, cohesive environment, but the blanketing effect also absorbs noise. It's more noticeable at night for obvious reasons, but even as I walked along the canal at 9AM, there was barely a sound, even though vehicles were being driven along the Division Street bridge as usual.

I took photos from this location, then walked down to Lincoln Street, and across to the opposite bank, and back to Division Street. It was calming, therapeutic, and stimulating all at the same time, and provided more evidence of how beautiful the city can be.

Chilling after visiting the Icewine Festival

Niagara-on-the-Lake, ON

January 22, 2012

I had been very clear on the fact that it was going to be a grown-up event, not the sort of festival that sells nests of cotton candy and welcomes little sock feet into inflatable castles. We were going to linger at portable wine bars, sample weird food, and talk to other adults. I reminded them several times that I could make arrangements for them to go somewhere and play. Despite the insistence of tedium, both of my boys declared they wanted to come along, just to see what it's like... perhaps also to demystify what makes an event a "grown-up event."

I think the mental preparation paid off because there wasn't much in the way of coat pulling or sibling infractions or vocal vexations. They were curious about all the different kinds of chili (because Mom only makes the one kind) and enthralled by the ice sculptures: impossibly smooth, frozen depictions of winery estates and cleanly chiselled text in letters of both blocks and scrolls.


As I watched their gloved, and later ungloved, hands slide along the flat, frozen surfaces of the sculptures, I pondered whether I had even mentioned to them that there would be such attractions. But given the ridiculously tepid January we'd been having, I decided that this one little nugget of interest might not even materialise! So it wound up being an unexpected highlight for them - a quiet study in textures and temperatures and talent.


After enjoying the tented alfresco bistros, we made our way to Simcoe Park, my ten-year-old with his portable chess board slung over his right shoulder. It was his idea to bring it along in hopes that we might be able to play it somewhere. I had originally envisioned that being the distraction that would allow us adults to peruse the icewine bars, but as it turned out, we all settled into the shelter of the park's wooden bandshell and had ourselves a little tournament! It was the perfect arrangement: playing chess outdoors in the winter sunshine, breathing in fresh, brisk air, sipping Balzac's rich hot chocolate... with no mention from anybody of any desire to be somewhere else...

Wintermission at Firemen's Park, Niagara Falls, ON

                                                                                                   © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

We veered into the glacial parking lot, our determined tires wavering and swimming through the densely packed snow, putting our trusty four-wheel drive system solidly to the test. The air was crowded with pristine snowflakes.. frosty feathers fluttering happily in the late afternoon breeze before coming to rest upon naked elm branches and seasonally abandoned swing seats. But it wasn't at all cold, it was pleasantly winter: fresh, agreeable, lively.

Upon retrieving two plastic toboggans and closing the hatch, I waded towards the achromatic hill behind two little guys who were bursting with innocent energy. They strode forward in anticipation, evidently oblivious to the impending downsides of going sliding: the periodic sting of cold snow against warm, exposed wrists and calves, the occasional assault of iced powder against the face upon reaching the bottom of the slope, and trudging uphill yet again with a plastic monstrosity pressed against the back, seemingly to have doubled in weight since the first run! Nope, they just wanted to slide... just as it should be!

I surveyed the modest incline and wondered if this could really be the big thrill ride that had been so heartily recommended to me over the past few snowy weeks. I decided that there must be another hill hiding somewhere around the park, but subsequently decided that it wasn't worth expending the energy to locate it. This one was perfect in their eyes, and I gleefully spent the next hour securing bright blue and green vessels against the slick launchpad, steadying them for embarking, then synchronising their release so as to ensure a fair race!

Eventually, however, some of the aforementioned consequences took their toll and one of them remembered that a tall, shiny thermos had made the trip with us. "Hot chocolate!!!!" he shrieked, and led the charge back to the parking lot. They patiently (okay, okay.. somewhat impatiently!) took turns cradling the inverted thermos cap with snow covered mittens, savouring the smooth, warm chocolate as its sweet smelling steam swirled against their flushed cheeks.. one of the definite upsides of going sliding!

Conception Bay South, Newfoundland

                                                                                                                                          © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

My favourite beach is quite a different place under winter's grasp. I can't immediately recall when it was that I shot this, but my guess would be about 15 years ago because I haven't participated in a Newfoundland winter in just about as long.

But I absolutely remember the bracing experience of shooting it! We weren't exploring on foot that day therefore I wasn't at all prepared for exterior activity. But that row of icy metamorphosed rocks! I couldn't resist! As soon as I emerged from the comfort of our vehicle, the fierce wind and resulting turbulence of the ocean was fantastic and unbelievably daunting. It prompted that feeling of being utterly minuscule in the face of nature's power. I love how wild the water looks here, swirling and crashing in every direction, unleashing itself onto the shore and teaching those idle rocks a thing or two! And with each frigid wash, it would leave behind an icy glaze that grew increasingly thicker and slipperier and more lustrous. I marvelled at the entire production for only a few minutes before falling back into the car's warm bucket seat and pulling the door closed, leaving the wind to return its attention to the ocean.

Ottawa's Rideau Canal in February of 2009

                                                                                                                                                    © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

I decide against renting a pair of skates and instead give myself permission to enjoy the frozen Rideau Canal flatfooted. I am just content to be present in this invigorating city during their celebration of winter, drinking in the wondrous expanse of crystal clear blue and white, inhaling air so strikingly fresh that it speared at the inside of my nose upon greeting me this morning, a feeling that used to be routinely aggravating but that now makes me smile as I remember my Northern childhood. I close my eyes for a few moments, discerning the sound of refined steel blades slicing happily into the ice, gliding smoothly over its surface while leaving behind etchings of swirls and signatures.

In the summer, this is a fluid trail for canoes and ducks, as joggers and cyclists trace its banks in great numbers on welcoming manicured trails. But now, it has become the trail, providing an alternate route for those who wish to literally venture off the beaten path. Why not take advantage of something different, something that is accessible for only a few months of the year?

Ottawa's inhabitants vigorously embrace their outdoors, not only enjoying physical activity outdoors, but resting there as well, setting up huts and creating edible wares that waft their delectable smells to the masses, beckoning skaters to come take a break! After a long satisfying stroll, I succumb to the temptation and I buy myself a cup filled to the brim with one of the greatest concoctions known to winter: a steaming marriage of molten chocolate and earthy coffee. I scan the borderless cafe in search of an available chair, which is not immediately evident amidst so many enthusiastic Canadians. Finally, I locate a place to sit and be. I wrap my fingers around the piping hot receptacle and savour the rich flavours it is holding for me. I breathe deeply and revel in the feeling of spending my afternoon among so many like-minded beings, outdoors in the winter sunshine, my soft blue gloves waiting patiently for me on the carved wooden cafe table.

Along the beach at Conception Bay South, Newfoundland

I captured this one years ago, around the time that I started regularly wielding a single lens reflex and behaving like a wide-eyed eight year old kid in a frog-filled marsh. Nothing was (is!) pedestrian to me. I was enthralled with the abundance of little discoveries to capture on, at that time, film. Never mind functioning before the digital groove - I never limited myself when I was out with my camera, and shot whatever I knew I would enjoy viewing later!

It is always frigid at the beach in the winter, but on those rare days when the wind is sedated, you can sufficiently insulate yourself in a portable shelter of parkas and wool, enabling you to spend some quality time with the invigorating chilled air.

Having performed the above-mentioned layering ritual, I was enjoying the afternoon shooting ice glazed beach rocks, charismatic vanilla frosted wooden fences, and sugar-coated tree branches stretching out into the cerulean sky.

I didn't spy the critter that left behind this flurried evidence, nor did I attempt to coerce it into view; I simply kneeled down and took this picture. My favourite aspect of this image is not the tracks, however, it is the sparkle of the individual snow crystals, perched ever so delicately atop the more mature snow that had now fused into ground cover. It reminds me of quiet winter evenings growing up at home in Labrador, listening to the falling snowflakes, and reveling in the pure, glistening environment that instilled in me my love of all things winter.

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

Stratford, Ontario in December

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

As we descend upon our placid aqueous avenue, we hear you complaining about the gelid wind as it brazenly slaps your cheeks and taunts your down-filled garmets into which you are desperately cocooned until the soft breath of springtime. Even on an afternoon such as this, refreshingly infused with invigorating air calmly hovering over a blanket of virgin snow, you are bothered.

We're not entirely sure that we understand this aversion to winter. Is this not the season that welcomes holiday camaraderie, lavish generosity, and lush displays of evergreens and holly? Is there something wrong with decelerated evenings spent surrounded by layers of quilted coverings and a like-minded individual?

Surely, there must be a few examples of your species who will unabashedly embrace this season for its exhilerating temperament and appreciate all of its bracing qualities. As a matter of fact, we see them, occasionally, meandering along the snow-crusted banks of our world, eagerly capturing photographs and exploring the nuances of our city as the evening rolls in. 

As for us, we revel in the changing of the seasons. Today, we're content to be flying over a pristine, uncluttered view enroute to our happy place, where we will congregate with some of our favourite winged creatures, as we do every evening.

Dufferin Islands, Niagara Falls, Ontario
December 2009



© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved



Alright, all you summer-loving people. You've had your fun. You've had all kinds of time to indulge in your delightfully lazy book-reading marathons as you become a long, late afternoon shadow on your freshly cut back yard lawn..... your endless summer nights consuming your sugar laden daiquiris and your minty mojitos and your lime infused Coronas on your cottage deck as the mosquitos drool over your exposed skin and the spiders come out to play..... your long, gratifying weekend getaways on your Harleys and your Hondas buzzing up and down the quiet streets letting everyone know that you're in town.....

Okay, so perhaps I may be speaking a little harshly! I am really not the type of person to display cynicism and even less the type of person to discourage activities that make people smile and contribute to the masses in a content and satisfied manner. But as of this week, the book of seasons has once again turned a page and it's now Autumn!!

Now I'm not saying it's a bad thing to be reduced to a molten heap of uselessness as the air licks your skin and the sun cooks your body... but it's just not for everybody!! For example, I am the person emphatically flipping my calendar to the -embers with unbridled exuberance as I breathlessly wait for the refreshing waves of cooler air to wash over me and fill my lungs and my spirit with energy.

Of course, where I am, in Southern Ontario, I am still holding my breath for that and it's becoming a little trying to continue doing so. It still feels like summer. Granted, it's a more comforable summer, but its time has come. Enough is enough. I see all these comments from my Facebook friends who still reside past the eastern point of the weathervane who get to announce the signs of the arrival of fall, mostly with acceptance: the multi-hued leaves that crunch underfoot, the chilly morning air that induces wakefulness and allows you to don that great fall jacket, adding another element to the day's ensemble, and yes, even the promise of colder days as winter awaits its cue to emerge onto the stage. That's right, people, I said it: winter is just around the corner!!  Fresh crystal clean air with vibrantly blue, clear skies... rich hot cocoa and fragrant wood fireplaces, cozy blankets and textured sweaters, thick spicy soup simmering on the stove.... exhilerating skiing excursions and rejuvenating afternoon jaunts as the snow compresses underfoot and thin sheets of ice hover over puddles and ponds just waiting to be stepped on with a big satisfying crunch!!!

I am also not the type of person to wish away any of my days, but I AM excited to be on the verge of the full blown arrival of my favourite time of year! And I'm not afraid to proclaim it!!!!