The spectacular spring thaw in Montreal is a sight to behold.
I'm captivated by this city at all hours, and let's be honest—summer is when Montreal truly shines with its glamorous flair. Yet, my favorite time is experiencing the initial hints of spring.
I believe this excitement might be exclusive to winter cities. These are the areas frequently blanketed with snow, overcast skies, and bitterly cold temperatures that often feel prolonged. I've resided in locations where the change between seasons appears nearly seamless. In those places, people do experience spring—though not quite as intensely. It takes the harshness and symbolic demise of winter before one can truly appreciate being revitalized each spring.
In Montreal, as April and May arrive, it feels like everyone goes slightly mad with joy. People pour out onto balconies and streets to bask in the sunlight. They enjoy outdoor brunches while still wrapped in their coats. A few daring souls begin sporting shorts well before all the snow has vanished.
I get thrilled whenever the initial buds show up on trees, and the tough ground gives way to a gentle blanket of fresh grass. It’s wonderful seeing the first crocuses, daffodils, tulips, and dandelions burst forth in vibrant hues.
Once the magnolias begin to bloom, I become ecstatic. I wander about in a joyful daze, taking photos and detailed shots of the lush, soft pink and white petals as though I'm an assigned Ansel Adams. I simply cannot have too much of this experience.
Nobody captures the essence of Montreal's spring thaw — the raw and sensual rejuvenation — quite like the city's beloved poet.
Springtime in Montreal," as Leonard Cohen notes in 'Beautiful Losers,' "is akin to performing an autopsy." Everyone seems eager to uncover what lies beneath the surface of the frostbitten beast. Young women discard their sleeves, revealing smooth, pale skin reminiscent of fresh timber hidden beneath verdant bark. Meanwhile, from the thoroughfares emerges a passionate declaration echoing like a swelling inner tube: 'Winter hasn’t vanquished us once more!'
Cohen penned this on the Greek island of Hydra — where he fled to avoid the severity of Canadian winters.
In Montreal, spring is brief, lasting only for a handful of weeks. After that, the city jumps into intense summer conditions characterized by heat and humidity.
Yet, during those brief splendid weeks, all comes alive again. The scent of the soil transforms. White trilliums blossom in Angrignon Park and ferns gently unroll. The Lachine Canal brims with joyful folks lounging under the sun, cycling, inline skating, taking leisurely walks with small dogs, or propelling baby-stuffed strollers. Hammocks emerge from hiding spots, swinging softly in the mild breeze.
Everybody appears ecstatically thrilled about being alive. It’s all so rapid, impromptu, and fleeting, which only adds to its value.
Local patios spring up seemingly out of nowhere. We suddenly spot neighbors and acquaintances whom we've barely crossed paths with over recent months. Picnics blankets, wine bottles, and guitars mysteriously emerge at park gatherings. Barbecues ignite as the distinct scent of burning charcoal permeates the atmosphere. Queues form for those eagerly awaited initial scoops of summer ice cream.
We come together beneath the open heavens to rejoice in birthday celebrations, weekend getaways, or simply for the sheer pleasure of residing in a metropolis brimming with lush parks and verdant areas.
It displays a childlike enthusiasm throughout. Only those who go through all four seasons can feel this excited. Individuals with consistently mild climates tend to become blasé about them over time. It's natural for humans not to appreciate things they don't have to strive for.
And we must strive for this happiness every individual winter.
"As we strolled along the paths on that lovely spring afternoon, my companion mentioned, 'For the upcoming half-year, our city will glow.' He was energetically documenting the calls of birds using an application on his smartphone, attempting to identify different types of avian life. While extending this period may seem overly optimistic, just remember folks get really enthusiastic during these warmer months," he added with enthusiasm.
Embrace it fully. Absorb all of what spring has to offer. Cherish it with the passion only a Montrealer possesses.
Toula Drimonis is a Montreal-based journalist and the writer of "We, the Others: Allophones, Immigrants, and Belonging in Canada."
toulastake@gmail.com
