The snow doesn't give a soft white damn whom it touches.
~ E.E. Cummings
Stepping outside of my apartment, I can see that the parking lot and walkway have been shoveled. Not all of the roads and sidewalks were as clear though. Let's head out to the lake.
If those slingshot chairs, aptly named The Launch Pad were real, they might just be powerful enough to send you out into the open water.
A fresh snowfall makes it difficult to discern where the land ends and the lake begins. The tree does grow rather close to the water.
This walkway leads onto a large T-shaped dock. It's mostly covered in snow but you can still make out the outline.
You can see it a lot better from this angle. Just a few months ago, these guys were having the time of their lives fetching tennis balls thrown from the pier, into the water.
This was as far as I could get around the lake. The snow was too deep to traverse beyond this point.
In a different direction, this guy was accepting his fate of trudging through the snow.
He had several metres of frozen hose behind him, too.
Heading back toward home, this bright red truck amid all of the snowy white caught my eye.
The Little Library was wearing its snowcap. Nobody had visited since the recent storm.
This is the parking lot at the Peterborough Memorial Centre. It took a long time for those piles to melt. I do believe they're completely gone by now - more than a month after the snowfall.
A few days later, warming temperatures made for a quick melt. Bright, late afternoon sunshine made for saturated hues. And puddles offered some colourful reflections.
Walking into the lowering sun made for golden light.
The road that leads to home - where Netflix awaits.