03.06.08 kulturnatib

Snowman

Where is my snowman? This was the question asked by a friend, by email. This was asked in jest. It was more to ask about how I was adjusting to snow in particular and winter in general than to actually locate a snowman.

Also, since he comes from a country that did have snow, this could have been some kind of challenge though I can only guess this as snowmen seem to be popular only in North America and not in Britain where he comes from nor in the rest of the snow belt countries.

Answering, I said, there has not been an opportunity to make one. Not only does it take time to make a snowman but it also takes a particular kind of snow, as I was made to understand when I inquired about making one; It has to be within a range of temperatures, must have the right moisture, compactness, fluffiness and stickiness.

In short, there is a science to this that goes beyond the simple cutesy-tootsy images found in postcard pictures.

Even then, science has yet to catch up with the Inuits of the Arctic for whom there are some 80 words for snow. Although snowmen do not seem to have any particular place in their culture they must have a word or two for the kind of snow suited for snowman making.

Still, time was and is really the harder to come by than snow which has been and will continue to be a veritable deluge, at least for a few more weeks. In fact, in one place I visited, snow had piled up so high -- the service to haul snow away no longer reached that part of the city -- that they topped the roofs of some houses, some of them on, appropriately, Rue Everest or Everest Street.

Also, there was enough snow for the outdoor snow sculpture exhibit during last month's Bal de Neige or Winterlude. Each of the 10 provinces and 3 territories of Canada was represented by a sculpture created by a team of artists.

These works were huge and as elaborate as any that can be done in more stable, lasting or workable material. If one were prone to hyperbole, marble is the material that would leap to mind by way of comparison. Both are generally white and both are cool to the touch though one is more likely to be touched barehanded while the other gloved.

Enjoying these sculptures made me all the more resolve that the answer to my friend's somewhat rhetorical question would somehow be an actual snowman. Sooner than later, as snow season comes and then goes.

Sooner happened soon enough.

Over the weekend, we visited friends in Toronto. They had recently moved houses to a bigger, if older, house with something the lack of which, where we live, has all the more handicapped my snowman making opportunities: a backyard.

So, with the warm sun in the sky, warm breakfast in our bellies, we, four adults and a baby, proceeded outdoors with a mission: to have fun and to make a snowman.

In the end, we had loads of fun and no snowman. Or, we had two that could not roll up to size. This does not mean that we achieved nothing. While we didn't have the optimum snow for a proper snowman, we had the perfect snow for a snowsnail.

It was a snowsnail the likes of which has never been seen before. It turns out to be fitting as well. Snowmen don't go anywhere. Neither do snownails, but they get there even slower. On a slow, sunny winter day this is all just as well.