Yesterday, we woke to about 8 inches of snow that had fallen over night, and it was still snowing. Roads were covered, wind was blowing, car accidents were happening. It’s winter weather in Nova Scotia even though winter doesn’t officially arrive for almost two weeks.
Schools were closed, and highway plough trucks worked to clear the roads, throwing it 20 feet into the air and spreading it over the front yard. Private plough truck operators were also out, some probably since midnight.
Snow, or should I say, snow storms play a major role in A December Knight. After all, it takes place in December in Nova Scotia. The province can go from one extreme to the next, one year having only a few small snow storms in winter to having a few feet fall in one day. In this Christmas romance, it’s a very snowy December.
Here are three paragraphs from three different parts of the story that provide a glimpse into the amount of snow that falls on the main characters.
The radio blared in the background, announcing the storm overnight had hit the Cobequid Pass exceptionally hard, stranding dozens of motorists on the highway. “Ploughs are making progress and should have the Pass open by noon. Emergency personnel on snowmobiles have been busy all night, checking passengers. Several vehicles were found in snowdrifts, but only one individual required hospitalisation.”
She pulled her hat down and slipped on her gloves. She had to endure the cold and wet before she got to enjoy the warm and dry blankets on her bed. Still, she was unprepared for the wind and snow whipping around the doorway, lifting her scarf into the air. The parking area was a sea of white with shadows indicating where mounds of snow had been piled and where the few remaining vehicles were parked. The bobbing light hanging high above her car illuminated the banks of snow created by the plough. They rose higher than her tires.
Yellow flashing lights illuminated the street, and the sound of rumbling made them turn to find the source. A highway plough truck zoomed by, sending snow flying twenty feet into the air. In its wake it left a five-foot high snowbank at the end of the driveway. As the truck disappeared from view, they gawked at each other. Without a lot of shovelling, the Ford Escape wouldn’t make it through the wall of snow.
Just thinking about all that snow makes my body ache again. I spent three hours yesterday shoveling out paths, gates, doorways and around my truck. I would have done more, but I had helpers in the form of kids.