The winters of my youth were spent in Sudbury, Ontario, a nickel mining town about a 4-hour drive north of Toronto. I grew up cross-country skiing and spent much of my adolescence travelling from small town to small town with the local Nordic team, competing in provincial- and national-level competitions. Our coach was a skilled practitioner of endurance training, ski waxing, and cold-weather photography.
The memories from those years are captured on film photos, which are crammed inside a discoloured shoebox in my closet. I seldom take the lid off that box. Its contents reveal a mixture of snow-covered trails, winter cabins, and joyful teenagers wearing brightly coloured Lycra and awkward toques.
But when I look at those photos today, I feel only sadness, for I know how the story ends for many of those young faces.
Enduring the cold
It’s been 25 years since I left Sudbury or donned a pair of cross-country skis. I spent some of this time on the east and west coasts of Canada, where winter is typically a grey, slushy, good-for-nothing mess. Eventually, I settled in Southwestern Ontario, which is milder than Sudbury but still gets heavy snowfalls due to its proximity to Lake Huron.
For years now, I’ve considered winter as something to get through, something to endure, a punishment for the pleasures of summer. I find it difficult to believe that for nearly half my life I longed for -20°C and fresh snow so I could ski through dark forests for hours on end.
Re-embracing winter
This year, I’ve decided to re-connect with my frigid past, to re-embrace cold-weather photography, and to look at winter as a reward, as a season to savour. I no longer have the back or lungs for ski racing, but I do have an army of film cameras waiting to prove that their analogue innards and old lubricants are more than up for an old-fashioned Canadian snowstorm.
And so, when the first storm hit in mid-December, I had my Leicas locked and loaded with fresh film and hit the streets with my seven-year-old son, Kipling, in tow. I can already hear the Leica aficionados cringing at the thought of a water-wimpy rangefinder and lens being dragged kicking and screaming into a blizzard.
Indeed, my M4 and 50 Summilux have seen enough moisture and condensation to scare away even the most weathered of collectors. And they are, arguably, better for it. I will admit that if the snow is particularly horrendous, I leave behind the M bodies and grab a black paint Leicaflex SL with a 50 Summicron-R.
Go ahead, call me a Leicaflex abuser, but I and that tank of a camera can take it.
Appreciating the past and present
It’s fitting that as I write these words, Southwestern Ontario is being bombarded with another massive snowstorm (the same one which paralysed much of the United States in early 2025). I go outside to shovel every hour or so and then come in to have some coffee. I also edit some of the images I’ve captured over the past six weeks, my favourites of which I included here.
Already I can feel myself bonding again with winter. Feeling the different types and textures of snow underneath my boots reminds me of skiing days. It makes me daydream about what types of wax I’d use and if the snow would be fast or slow underneath my skis.
Mostly, I think about my former teammates crammed inside a minivan, joking all the way to Timmins or Thunder Bay; how close we were and how far apart we grew.
Who’s counting?
That shoebox will stay buried in my closet for the moment, but these new photos, the images of my wife, son, and our friends, I’ll relish. And I’ll try my best to revel in the ferocious winter that we are having, which is only halfway through, but who’s counting? Even more opportunity for cold-weather photography.
If you enjoyed this article and would like to see more of my photos, you can find me at Leica Fotografie International and Instagram.
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A cup of coffee works wonders in supporting Macfilos
Did you know that Macfilos is run by a dedicated team of volunteers? We rely on donations to help pay our running costs. And even the cost of a cup of coffee will do wonders for our energy levels.
These really are excellent pictures. Thank you for sharing!
Patrick, thank you for the encouraging comment. I’m happy you liked the photos.
I love the expressions of the people in these photos. The way everyone is enjoying the winter season too! Looking at these, I think I’ve been under-exposing the shots I take in the snow. Thanks for sharing!
Thanks for the kind comment, Arthur. Yes, it’s easy to underexpose in snowy settings. I usually try to find a grey patch of pavement or wall to take my exposure setting. All the best.
Thanks for a taste of the joy of a Canadian winter. Do you process film yourself and scan it. The M4 is a truly lovely camera buy I have moved from snow shovel to snowblower and from film to digital. 😂
Thanks, Brian. I have access to a darkroom in the biology department where I work, but I’ve mostly been using a wonderful local film studio (allthingsfilm.ca) for all my processing.
Thanks for the article David. Your B&W images are really excellent. As a former cross-country skier I remember these flashy Salomon boots that were the hype in the mid and late 1990s if my memory is good. My wife and my own cross-country skis and shoes are stocked in the cellar at home and haven’t touched any snow for tje last 10 years now.
Many thanks for the kind comment, Jean. My skis haven’t seen the light of day in over 20 years, so you’re still ahead of me.