What to Do When You Can See Your Breath

As we occasionally do, we've headed, blissfully (dare I say naively?), off for a good visit home. Spring on the West Coast, what could be nicer? Just before we were ready to leave we were suddenly inspired to check out the weather. Highs of 11 degrees Celsius. Hmmmm...

The snow receding from the "Lions"

Repacking (long sleeves, lots of long sleeves), we felt we were ready for the "crisper" temperatures. On our arrival we stepped out of the airport at a crushing 6am and got slammed by a wall of..."crisp". It was around 11, as predicted, and the sun was shining, but heavens, it felt chilly. (We're obviously getting soft.) The day warmed and we were able to remove a top layer without shivering in our shoes.

Muddy waters of the Fraser River

This didn't continue. Come the weekend the clouds rolled in and the temperature dropped (below double digits) and our poor equatorial bodies went into shock. The solution? Stay inside or layer up and hope for the sun. First world problems, I know. I forgot how cool spring is here.

Pink Dogwood in bloom

We did actually see our breath, one morning, while waiting for the bus, but we didn't take our own advice and rush back to the warm confines of the house. I have been forced to buy closed shoes, to keep the chill wind from tickling my toes, but with appropriate layers, I seem to be surviving.

Fiddleheads uncurling

While I proudly state that "I am Canadian", I'm apparently one of the wimpy ones from the temperate lower mainland that can't handle the chill, a state that's exacerbated by warm Ecuadorian breezes. I suspect my new hiking boots might be my go to footwear for a while, at least until summer realizes it should be on its way. Or maybe I'm not cool enough for that "chill" west coast lifestyle.