Last night we walked our usual circuit, down to the Minto Bridges, through the streets of New Edinburgh to Beechwood, then across the St Patrick's Street bridge, past the Chinese Embassy and through Bordeleau Park * back to our house. The wooden boards of the Minto Bridges creak under our feet as they always do under a certain temperature; I find it disconcerting. The snow on the river banks and river ice is now so smooth and white that it's impossible to tell where the margin is. It's beautiful there, under the trees.
My photo was taken last month in the late afternoon in similar conditions, but the dried grasses and flower stalks left behind from last summer are now beginning to disappear under smooth drifts.
* A neighbour at a Christmas party who told me she was working on a book about the history of Bordeleau Park. My husband cheekily refers to the park as Bordello Park, which, she says, is a thought that had also occurred to her while she was doing her research. Not so long ago, the police were called in to help clean up the park's image and the neighbourhood played its part in reclaiming the area, too.
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