IT WAS A NOVEMBER AFTERNOON when I first saw confetti falling from the sky. I was sitting in a café off Mount Royal Avenue and I peered at the other patrons, assuming they’d share my bewilderment. They did not. My friend Sarah, who happened to be the barista, joined me as I rushed outside. Out on the sun-bathed street, I marvelled at the glittery specks that fell onto my face. “Félicitations,” Sarah ex- claimed. “C’est ta première neige!”

IN THE MONTHS BEFORE I moved from Melbourne to Montreal, the technicalities of winter were often on my mind. My experience with snow was limited to Hollywood movie sets and news stories about polar vortexes. I had many questions: how do you walk without slipping? How do you stop snow from getting into your eyes? Would an umbrella work?

My friends and family didn’t make things any easier, ...