Visiting Lórien

(The French version of this post is actually a bit longer... when I translated it from the English, I found I had more things to say. And there are more pictures, including a drawing of a tree that looks a bit like Pina Bausch to me :o)


One of my favourite aspects of living in Montreal (along with its truly welcoming personality) is that each of its four seasons allows you to travel in space, as well as in time.

Icy stars floating on the grass.

Spring, for instance, visits us briefly during the first two weeks of May – until then all the trees are still bare – and it is bewitching in a way that I have never experienced in Europe. It takes you to a kind of  Lórien where Maple trees rule the city, overwhelming the streets with fragrant bouquets of tiny, yellow-green flowers.

You can almost see them opening up.

Montreal summers are tropical in many ways, including the relaxed atmosphere, and the fact that even a single sheet is too warm on your skin at night, with windows wide open. Then as soon as mid-September (usually), autumn brings a mountain-like quality to the air and light; warm, golden afternoons alternate with crisp, clear nights.

This radiance of bright-coloured leaves is quite ephemeral and dream-like, too.

In winter, it’s like Scandinavia here (everybody’s sliding, cross-country skiing, skating or snowshoeing, even in the heart of the city), except we get as many hours of daylight as people in Bordeaux, France, being on the same latitude. Which is nice, particularly when the sky is such a deep blue, and temperature regularly drops to - 22 C several days in a row, usually with a - 28 C wind chill (- 18 F).

Mont-Royal Cemetery.

I have been attracted to Scandinavian countries – winters, summers, spirit, and languages included – since I was maybe twelve or so... Walking through wide expanses of glimmering snow, or even seeing skaters in every park, still feels to me like traveling to a lovely foreign place.

In Parc Lafontaine.

Even at home, since I can’t afford to heat much, I layer woollen sweaters and skirts in a Scandinavian kind of outfit, complete with striped socks, mittlets, and knitted pointed hat  :o)

In a Swedish garden...

Love this little cape.

By mid-February, however, I often find myself longing for summer, as I long for a friend I haven’t seen in months, and miss dearly. I need to be hugged by the warm wind, I want to offer my bare legs and shoulders to its touch, and to ride my bike everywhere.

Ink on paper.

Also, I miss my friends the trees – whose crown is revealed in intricate detail on the winter sky – because I can’t have my usual happy conversations with them. Half asleep, they are patiently enduring the cold and stillness.

Roots criss-crossing on the surface: a common sight in Montreal parks.

But the simple sight of these hundreds of Maple buds-in-waiting, right there in the middle of winter, makes me sigh with gratitude, and a secret pleasure.

On the Mont-Royal.

I guess my favourite time of the year is June, when everything is still blooming and pulsing with joy; the days extend well into the evening, and the evenings are so soft that they make you cry. And yet, it is very frustrating to have other obligations – like working and sleeping – distracting me from this pure bliss. 

And don't even get me started on Peonies.

So I find that I am most creative and balanced in September… Maybe because it's my birthday month :o)

Do seasons affect you a lot, in a positive or negative way? Which is your favourite one?