An island can be a stubbornly independent place, particularly when it’s at the far western reaches of a vast country, with a unique culture, topography and climate.
There are times when Vancouver Island – and Victoria in particular – doesn’t feel particularly Canadian. Especially when your mates in Whitehorse or St. John or Ottawa are griping about the winter.
We lose sight of the bigger community as we bask in 8 degree Januarys and stroll about the still-green parks in our shorts.
However this is not a post about winter, but about identity. Today we joined the rest of the country.
A big snow storm has proved to be the great equalizer. The schools are closed. The snow ploughs are hitting the main arteries. Vendors and home owners are hastening to their sidewalks with the shovels they haven’t used since 2010.
For a time we are Canadians again. The Canada of hockey and Tim Hortons and socks bunching up in the bottoms of your snowboots.
Here’s to the old red & white.
Particularly the white.









