King of the Coyotes

 Photo courtesy CBC: (Ryan Remiorz/Canadian Press) Winter Comes to Canada

I wanted my camera this morning when I got to the corner of 24th and Crowchild. Trail. The snow was glistening on the road, broken by the long black tire marks where the cars were going north and south. Cutting across those lines at a 45 degree angle was the shadow of the light post. Even the shadow of the traffic lights hanging over the road was highlighted on the ground. The snow has been falling all afternoon and evening.

 Richard did round one and shovelled the walks. Pouria and Amir picked up shovels later and they took the second layer of snow off of the sidewalks. In the morning I pulled out the shovel and clean the walks again – there has to be a clear way for Kelvin to get to the handibus and all of us are making that happen.

“Those tracks are from the King of the Coyotes,” Richard said. We had stopped to examine the tracks wondering if they were made by a coyotes or by a deer. “Coyote. The King of the Coyotes. Look how large that track id. He must have been out looking for a rabbit for breakfast.”

We could hear the squeak of the snow under our boots. The walk was slow – ploughing through the newly laid glistening white blanket slowed us down. We could only guess where the sidewalk was. Both of us were in our best winter gear: I was wearing my new face mask; he was practising with a thin baklava over his head. “I learned when I was biking to work that keeping warm means two pair of socks, doubling up on the head gear and keeping my hands dry and warm,” he reminds me.

He had been out on the internet, trying to find a way to bike to work. It looks do-able if he can just find a way to get over Barlow Trail. The desire to double up on the necessity of getting to work and the desire to exercise along the way is a hard one to put to rest.

Arta