{"id":5443,"date":"2008-04-11T13:59:13","date_gmt":"2008-04-11T19:59:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.wend.ca\/?p=5443"},"modified":"2020-06-20T14:17:21","modified_gmt":"2020-06-20T18:17:21","slug":"cottony-softness-falling-out-of-the-sky","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wend.ca\/?p=5443","title":{"rendered":"Cottony Softness Falling Out of the Sky"},"content":{"rendered":"

While at Acadia University I lived on a floor that contained a fair number of students from the Bahamas. One thing I remember about each of them is their preconceived notions of snow and how quickly this changed after a good Canadian snowfall.<\/p>\n

By my second year, I was a master at suppressing giggles whenever I heard Bahamians talk about how pretty snow was, how it looked so light and fluffy in pictures, and about how they couldn’t wait for its cottony softness to fall out of the sky so they could go outside and play like the Canadian children they’d seen in photos.<\/p>\n

Inevitably this all changed and within an hour or two of the first snowfall and “wonder rush” outside. Later in the day, I would find them huddled around in the TV in the common area, wrapped in blankets and muttering about how miserable and cold snow was; many refusing to go outside for days.<\/p>\n

This is what happens when you see pictures of snow all your life, but never actually experience it. Above is my contribution to the Caribbean mystery of snow.<\/p>\n

I have to say that yesterday was truly a weird weather day — and quite possibly a snow day that even my Bahamian floormates could tolerate. I can’t speak for the rest of the city because apparently it was different in the 4 quadrants, but for us here is how the snow day came together:<\/p>\n