Soliloquies Anthology 30.1

By Saskia Wodarczak

The east coast marmots – sorry, the rodents – are currently my number one enemies. Quebec’s very own Fred la Marmotte predicted an early spring, as did Ontario’s Wiarton Willie. 

In hindsight, I ought to have trusted Vancouver Island Violet. She predicted six more weeks of winter. Her mate, Philip, apparently agreed with her, which was probably in his personal best interest. 

How is it that both Ontario and Quebec, whose marmots predicted early spring, have suffered an abnormally lengthy winter this year? Every time the mounds of snow beside the sidewalks melted into rivulets, I naively believed that no more snow would arrive. How could it, when that one day in mid-March was a good fourteen degrees, with the sun shining? Sadly, the day after greeted Montreal with yet more snow. 

So, I’m certain that you can imagine my delight when I got to go home to Vancouver for a week in February, where the weather was well over zero degrees. I didn’t need to wear a coat, and the grass was green. After four months of wearing heavy layer over heavy layer and my North Face jacket, being at liberty to wear jeans, heels, and a light top beneath a brown oversized leather aviator jacket was pure bliss. I could go outside with slightly damp hair and not worry about catching hypothermia. I also got to drive a car without fear of destroying my parents’ winter tires on an astronomically large number of potholes. Don’t even get me started on how nice it was to see trees that were alive.

It was lovely when I came back to Montreal. The lack of snow made me believe that spring was on its way, and that Fred and Willie were right. I even went as far as wearing a skirt once or twice, when it wasn’t dreadfully cold, and putting away my winter boots. For someone who has lived on the east coast for the last five years, what a rookie mistake. The snow returned within a couple days, and I begrudgingly pulled out my winter boots once again. 

Thankfully, my boss at my internship assigned me a couple of spring pieces to write about. Vancouver’s Cherry Blossom Festival was well under way in March (photos of which people did not hesitate to send me), and I gladly wrote about that, along with a piece about spring fashion, both of which certainly lightened my mood. While I’d look out my bedroom window and see grey skies and dead trees, I was quite happy that my family, friends, and colleagues in B.C. were enjoying the beautiful sakura blossoms with the nice green grass (along with a lot of rain). Vernon, B.C.’s Okanagan Okie, predicted an early spring and I’m glad that at least one of the weather-rodents gave an accurate prediction.

I’m also aware that I can’t be mad at these poor little creatures. They never asked to predict our weather. On an annual basis, their slumber is disturbed by us demanding for them to somehow communicate with us about whether or not they see their shadow. 

I do realize that allowing rodents to predict our weather forecast in such a way is not the most logical way to do it. However, as a proud Canadian, I do have a sense of faith in our little prognosticating creatures. Their predictions are tradition at this point. Yet I do feel as though our east coast rodents set us up. Perhaps they’re bitter and humiliated, and honestly, fair enough.

After six months of snow, ice, and abominably chilly temperatures, and as the last little bit of snow melts in and around our lovely city, I hope that the warm weather brings you all some much needed joy, warmth, and energy.