      It was a welcome shine on our dreary, wet Vancouver winter when the sun beamed on us today as I dusted off my sunglasses. Not that I am one to write about sunshine and lollipops, but the weather on this bright day warrants a small writing on the beauty of our city. After being pummelled by rain for the last two weeks, the wind blew over 70 kilometres per hour last night and parted the clouds to let the sun shine down on us. The result was a crisp, brisk, sunshine-filled morning with not a cloud in sight.
As a rule I will not complain about the rain in Vancouver. No way! It cleans the city, keeps us smelling fresh and looking green. However, the constant pounding of heavy rain can get you down. Down because everything is grey. Down because your pant legs get wet and start you on that endless slide and hitch dance that characterises Vancouverites so well. Down because all of our water-permeable items have a distinctly musty-wet-dog-esque aroma to them from November through April. Still, I am not complaining! I will take three hundred and sixty five straight days of friendly torrential Vancouver downpour before dealing with a hostile snowy winter in Eastern Canada.
Have you ever spent more than a week in Quebec during the winter? Picture this: through your frosty, un-insulated window you peer out, morning coffee in hand, to the winter wonderland that is downtown Montreal. It is still early enough that the kamikaze sidewalk cleaners have yet to burst down your street, flinging unsuspecting snow and pedestrians to the sides of the street. So early that many people have not yet made the brave trip outside their homes into the harsh morning ahead; the city covered in virgin snow, untouched since it fell the night before, twinkling and stark white. Not to be fooled by the false front of this breathtaking view, a few short hours from now this wonderland will be turned into a gritty mess of hidden pot holes, black snow banks and slush flung from passing cars. As you make your way to the frigid bathroom to heat up the pipes for your morning shower, you trip with numb toes over the pile of salt-encrusted footwear that lays crystallised where you left it the night before.
That is precisely when you hatch your escape plan back home to rainy, yet beautifully green, Vancouver.
