Meanwhile in other cities: Sonja Boon reporting from Halifax

And I Walked
Sonja Boon

Winters in St. John’s are hard. It’s a truism that almost doesn’t need to be spoken. After all, the weather sucks. The shoveling—especially the end of driveway—seems to go on and on. And honestly, who wants to be shoveling in May when the rest of the country is cavorting in the sun, and has been for months?

But that’s not the main reason why I find St. John’s winters hard.

There are extreme winters in other parts of Canada (hello, Winnipeg). There’s lots of shoveling in other parts of the country (hello, Ontario). And honestly, while other parts of Canada are cavorting in late April, we get them back in November when they’re buried under a foot of snow and we’re cavorting.

Winters in St. John’s are hard on my mental health.

And they’re hard on my mental health because I spend too many months feeling trapped. I can’t get out in winter. I can’t move properly. I can’t walk to the store. Or to the library. Or even to work. Because I can’t count on there being a sidewalk, let alone a safe sidewalk, to use. When I go out, I hunch myself in, holding myself tight. I don’t breathe freely. All of my energy goes to making sure that my body is safe, that I don’t accidentally end up on the road, or with a broken leg, or….

Winter in St. John’s is bad for my mental health and it has nothing at all to do with the weather. Or the shoveling. Or our late spring. Rather, it has everything to do with the city’s lack of interest in pedestrians.

And I’m an able-bodied person. What must winter be like for people with disabilities. Or mobility issues. Or with strollers?

This week, I’ve been in Halifax for research. I’d never visited Halifax in winter before, so I didn’t know what to expect. What I found were wide, salted sidewalks. Everywhere. Even the HarbourWalk was salted.

Halifax HarbourWalk at 9 am. Just a hint of snow overnight and they’d already salted the whole boardwalk. There were joggers out. And people walking dogs. And others, like me, just feeling the air.

And so I walked. And I walked. And then I walked some more. On the first day, I walked for over two hours straight. Just because I could. It was gorgeous weather: sunny and just below zero.

It was -8 the second day, close to -20 with the wind chill. But still I walked. And I walked. And I walked some more. Another two hours. Just because I could.

Look at the lovely sidewalks on Spring Garden Road! Loads of pedestrians, too, although I tried not to take photos of them.

I walked to feel the air. I walked to breathe. I walked to feel my body moving. I walked for the sheer pleasure of moving my body freely in the winter. I walked because I didn’t have to hunch myself over, picking through the ice and snow. I walked because I could hold my head high, because I could turn my attention away from fear and toward feeling the air against my skin, my feet moving confidently, one in front of the other. I walked because I could. Because I didn’t have to worry that I would end up upside down somewhere.

Look at the beautifully cleared and ice-free open space in front of the library – safe for wheelchairs and strollers and anyone who wants to go the library.

I realized, sometime during that second day, that I hadn’t felt this free in winter in years. Eleven years, to be exact, since our first winter in St. John’s.

It was ….
Wonderful. Exhilarating. Liberating.
It was incredible.

But it couldn’t be normal, right?

It must have been an easy winter.
It must be better weather in Halifax.

Where you can’t walk in Halifax: The Public Gardens are a skating rink right now, and their existence shows what happens when a city doesn’t keep up with the regular salting and clearing. They’re also closed to the public right now, which is probably wise.

What was Halifax’s secret?

I asked a friend, a Haligonian from birth who has spent the last four years living in St. John’s. Two weeks ago, she returned to Halifax to work on her thesis proposal over the winter term. I figured that if anyone would know the scoop, she would.

“So, what’s the deal? Is it always like this, every winter? Or is this just a weird winter?”

“It’s always like this,” she said. “And after four years in St. John’s, I’d totally forgotten. It’s amazing.”

She told me that she’d been raving about it to friends, other Haligonians she’s known for decades.

“I keep commenting on it and they just don’t get it, because it’s normal….”

Let’s just pause right there.

Because. It’s. Normal.

Nothing else. There is no magic.

Just…because it’s normal.

And so it should be in St. John’s.