I’m learning more and more about the weather here in Vancouver. Yesterday when I went running through the park, I came home soaking wet. The strange thing is that during my route, I could have swore that snow was falling into my mouth on occasion. That’s just something that happens when it’s raining, but this was really cold and kinda solid on my lips. I thought I was imagining it, but it was confirmed when I got home, and even more so by the Volvo pulling onto the street with a healthy coat of snow on top, obviously someone who just came from the higher elevations.
So this morning, there’s more clouds and snow, turns back into rain, then blizzard like conditions for nearly a minute, back to clear and sunny skies, and now there are these snow pellets descending from the sky. All of this in the time span of about eight hours, none of the snow sticking to the ground here in the West End. Too crazy.
Sitting next to the window and writing this right now, I’m cold. It’s cold here in Vancouver. Yes, I know I’m living in a climate north of forty second parallel, but it really does not get this cold here normally. In fact, this is unusually cold. How do I know that? I think part of it comes from running. When you pass some dude whose nose and ears are bright red, wearing shorts, bald, and looking at your shamefully because you have much more clothing that must be warmer than he is, you know this isn’t the usual type of weather they are used to.
The fact that Rebecca came home from work the other night and ranted about wind chills tells me another thing. Wind chills are a way of life where I come from. In Iowa, it’s just something that is associated with winter time. So cold that the snot freezes in your nose walking inside from the car. That, my friends, is cold. Vancouverites are warriors in their own right with all the rain that falls here. I’m not sure they would be able to handle an Iowan winter though.