It was an alien season
Darkness descended unlike anything I’d seen before

Wind howled
The blizzards attacked
And the chill cut into my core

‘Oh, this is a mild winter!’ they’d laugh
But in thirty years you couldn’t have found this back home

Who ever heard of snowmobile death tolls daily in the paper?
Of morbid flu forecasts that followed the weather?
Or of black ice and frost heaves that could send you to ruin?

There was a surreal atmosphere of impending doom
And those low, charcoal clouds did nothing to calm my nerves

The freeways became a cemetery for turned and twisted wrecks
The birds and foxes and deer disappeared from sight
And the only sounds of life were the ominous blitzkrieg cries of ploughs out at work in the blanket of black and white

We wore our heavy uniforms of layers
We bowed before the fire and repented for our sins

But as long as the dread seemed to hang around from day to day and week to week
Of late there has been a change in the air
It’s true- the skies are opening up

‘Spring flooding’ is the new unknown I’ve met
And a late roar may keep us in the caves a while yet

But it will soon subside
I’ve spied a flower now opened by my window
And so the sun, the warm and welcome sun has at last returned

Ezy Reading is back!- we apologise for the short break. The column will now return to being out every Monday. Thanks for your continued support!