Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts

Saturday, January 24, 2026

Stairs That Tell a Story: Default Stairs

Location: Ada Boulevard & 52 St.
Stair count: 89

I could be wrong, but it's my belief that anyone who lives in Edmonton, and uses the River Valley trail system with intention, has a set of "default stairs." It may not be their favourite set, or even the one closest to their home or place of work. But, for whatever reason, it's the set of stairs they gravitate to the most, or come across the most, when they are seeking to spend time in the River Valley.

Photo of a wooden staircase leading down into a river valley, in the winter
Highlands Stairs (c) Photos By Gina


For me, it's the Highlands Stairs.* For much of the last 20 years that I've lived within walking distance of this part of the river valley, the stairs never even existed. As far as River Valley stairs go, they're a newer set. I want to say they were installed just before Covid--which really isn't new at this point, chronologically speaking, but between the much longer history of some sets of stairs, and that weird thing Covid did to time, they still feel new.

And I'm so glad they were installed.

They're the stairs I stand on to catch the sunset over the river when I wasn't planning to catch the sunset at all, but the sky had other plans.

They're the stairs where I do Canadian party tricks at -30°C.

They're the stairs from which I watch and listen as the frazil floats along the current.

They're the stairs I pause on to see if the water level is low enough to look for cool rocks along the shore.

They're the stairs I generally descend, but rarely ascend, because my walking habits generally take me in a loop, not out and back.

They're not the longest set; they're not the steepest set; I'm not even sure if they're my favourite set (do I have a favourite set? I will have to think on that). But they are definitely my default set. Easy-access and multi-purpose, they connect me to and from the river, the trails, and my neighbourhood--in all seasons.

My default stairs.




 

*They aren't officially named that, though some sets of River Valley stairs do have recognized names. But that's what I call them.

Sunday, March 10, 2019

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Monday, March 5, 2018

A Moment for the Kindness of Strangers

The kindness of strangers over the last 48 hours or so has floored me--to the point that I can no longer keep the gratitude to myself. For anyone who needs some faith restored in the humanity around them today...

To the five people who pushed my car up a hill in a snow storm: you started as two. And when the neighbours, shovelling their own way out of the snow, noticed that two was not enough, they dropped what they were doing and flanked you both to help. I did not get a chance to say a proper thank you, but I heard you cheering along with me as you gave one last push into the intersection. ...I just want you to know, I made it home.

To the woman who helped me remove a shard of glass from my finger: I don't even know what you look like. I tend to get tunnel vision when I'm focused on a critical task; so as I stood at the sink in a busy public bathroom, all I was focused on was my finger. But I heard your voice beside me--encouraging me to squeeze the cut for you so you could help remove the glass. I know I could have worked it out on my own, but you saw a way to make it easier. I didn't see your face, but I saw your gentle fingers come in alongside mine, and gently wipe the shard away. "There! We got it!" you exclaimed. The accomplishment was as much yours as mine in the end. I heard you dispose of the paper towel, finally in a head space where I could look up to see you. But you had already turned away towards the door--and then you were gone. I just want you to know, tending another's wound--no matter how small--is a brave thing in my mind. Thank you for your bravery.

To the Airbnb guest who insisted on helping me clear my driveway: when I said, "1900 square feet," I was not exaggerating, but you didn't seem to mind. You grabbed the shovel while I started up my snow thrower--you did your thing, I did mine. I may have taken on most of the surface area, but you tackled all the stairs and the uneven path to the back gate. As far as I'm concerned, that's like voluntarily taking the heel of a loaf of bread; I just want you to know, I am extremely grateful.

To the lady who gave me her parking pass: I'd been pretty much go-go-go all day. And at the end of the afternoon, with one meeting still left, I stood in front of the parking lot pay machine, pausing to consider my options on the screen. There is something to be said for a pause in a busy day. As you started your car, your voice cut through the traffic around me, "Do you want my pass?" Thank you for sharing. I just want you to know, it may have felt like a little thing, but it was a meaningful thing.

Source unknown

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

SOTC 274/365

Edmonton! What's not to--

Love & Light (SOTC 274/365)

Monday, January 1, 2018

Monday, November 27, 2017

#IAmGrateful 27

Sunshine

I love sunshine. I grew up in Canada’s sunniest city
A minimalist photo--mostly blue sky, with two coniferous trees in silhouette on either side of the image. In between the trees is the low-lying sun with rays extending in all directions.
(c) Photos by Gina
, Calgary, which sees sunshine an average of 333 days a year. Edmonton comes in second, seeing sunshine 325 days out of the year. Pair that with the wide prairie sky for the sun's rays to shine in every direction, and it's no surprise that I love the light so much.

Even on days when it is -30C, the sky can be bright with light. And there's even a word to describe the warmth we feel from the sun in the cold of winter: apricity. ...I'm pretty sure someone out here on the prairies came up with that one, lol.

Especially at this time of the year when the sun is low in the sky and shorter-lasting, I am so grateful for its shine. Along with air and water, it is a source of life and energy. It boosts our well-being both mentally and physiologically. And it quite literally makes things sparkle.


Tuesday, November 21, 2017

#IAmGrateful 21

Nature

Even at -20C, nature still moves about, inviting us into moments of wonder, delight, and awe. I am so grateful.

 

(c) Photos by Gina

 

Monday, November 20, 2017

#IAmGrateful 20

Challenge

Black and white photos of a woman standing at the bottom of a wooden staircase, in the winter. She is contemplating the climb, with hands on her hips.
(c) Photos by Gina

Challenge is when I can't see the end of the road, the top of the mountain, or anything more than the next step in front of me--yet I know I must keep going.

Challenge is a call to perseverance and daring; awakening my inner strength, just when we were getting comfortable.

Challenge tests my my boundaries, my integrity, and my stick-with-it-ness.

It reminds me to trust the One who is really in control.

Challenge is air in my lungs, power in my stride, and fire in my eyes.

#IAmGrateful.



"You can't fall if you don't climb. But there's no joy
in living your whole life on the ground."
- Unknown

Monday, November 6, 2017

#IAmGrateful 6 (also, SOTC 259/365)

Warmth

Toques and boots, mittens and wool socks; down comforters, throw blankets, fleece housecoats and flannel pyjamas. Warm candles, hot packs, central heating.

I live in the northernmost metropolis on the continent--I never take our summer weather for granted, and in the winter, I am always grateful for warmth that I can so quickly access and afford, knowing there are so many who can't.*


#IAmGrateful 6 (Warmth)





*Got some warm winter clothes that could help those in need? Check out Coats for Kids and #bundleupyeg--they are currently taking donations!

Thursday, November 2, 2017

#IAmGrateful 2

Comfort

Here-to-stay snow arrived this week, and in between shovelling the driveway and dark mornings and wind chills I’m not quite ready for, I am grateful for the comfort of a hot drink, warm light, cozy layers, and books that hug the soul.

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Arousal

Shrug off the heavy jacket,
open the window,
let the cat out

Stand in the sun,
listen to the world thaw around you,
and lose yourself a moment
in spring's foreplay

SOTC 227/365

Where Trees are the Skyline Too (SOTC 227/365)

Sunday, January 22, 2017

SOTC 226/365

Lake's Gems I (SOTC 226/365)

And with just a gentle nudge, these icy gems skate clear across the lake's smooth surface.