Oaks In Winter

One of winter's small pleasures, and one I have always cherished is the appearance of the oak trees along Colonel By Drive and the Rideau canal on the way downtown. In late November, brisk winds scour the leaves from all the other trees along the drive, and there are leafy whirlwinds everywhere one looks in late autumn, but the oak trees along the canal keep their leaves until spring arrives.

Here and there amid the snowdrifts and the whiskery bare old maples are splashes of much needed colour, golden willow and russet oak. Pick a oak leaf in winter, and one discovers what splendid tactile things they are: fine grained leathery texture, glowing colours, sometimes frosted and sparkling along every single vein and edge. The leaves rustle wonderfully in one's hand, and in January, they still retain something of their astringent summer fragrance.

Now that I have retired, I can visit the oaks rather than just driving by them, and from time to time I can be seen standing somewhere nearby in a deep drift of snow, hands in my pockets and looking up thoughtfully. Winter joggers along the canal are often curious about what (if anything) that strange old woman in the snow bank is looking at, and they are always surprised to learn that she is "just looking at the leaves", but oh, what a masterpiece every single leaf is!