It’s Groundhog Day. Wiarton Willy, the official local groundhog, will tell us whether or not we will have 6 more weeks of winter, based on whether or not he sees his shadow.

Of course, this is all a bunch of nonsense because even Wiarton Willy can’t control whether it will be a sunny day on February 2nd or not… but personally I do hope for 6 more weeks of winter.

This winter hasn’t really even started yet. It’s a pseudo-winter: snow for 3 days, rain for 4, snow for one day, rain for 2. No sooner do we get used to sweeping off our car and bundling up than it’s time for Wellies and umbrellas again. Every day, I have to check the weather to find out whether it’s a rubber boot day or a winter boot day.

I know there is a large camp that is thrilled with the spring-like spells and lack of icy roads and snow drifts. It means little shoveling, salting, and bundling. But it also means endless brown muck, dried salt stains, barren landscapes, and, worst of all, no snow days!

One of my favourite things about winter is hoar frost. It only happens on certain mornings, when the temperature and moisture is just right. When the sun gets high enough, it melts away, so you have to get out to capture it in the morning.

Here are some pictures that I took on a hoar frost morning about two years ago: