As stated in yesterday’s entry, E.g. and I drove to her parents’ place for Christmas this year. Technically, that’s false: a few years after obtaining my license in a small village, I became an impecunious city dweller. I let my license lapse, and have never gained the confidence to re-do the driver’s test in an urban setting. In truth, then, E.g. drove to her parents’ place while I played with the camera in the passenger seat.
This explains in part why the drive from Toronto, Ontario to Saint John, New Brunswick took three days.
Today’s photo is for Livingisdetail, because she likes going on road trips. From her home in Melbourne, she’ll head out to little towns and villages in the countryside, examining evidence of Australia’s pioneer past. I’ve chosen this photo to show her what to expect on a road trip in Canada the morning after a 20-centimetre snowfall.
This is a snow plough, a nice, heavy-duty one with two blades. Having rediscovered the macadam, it is now clearing the shoulder. Out the back, it spews sand and salt.
The driver has been working since 5 a.m., but its lights are still on mid-morning — as are everyone else’s — because of the reduced visibility caused by the blowing snow. The car is hoping to pass it. We’re in the car’s way. Five vehicles on a ten-mile stretch, and four of them are meeting here. You might also have noticed the yellow diamond-shaped sign on the right, which is warning drivers, “Caution: deer crossing.”
Northern New Brunswick: it’s a happenin’ place.