In The Chill Of The Night

Cold. It was very cold that January in 1960. Lots of snow had fallen and remained on the ground. Winter would be long and deep that year, and that meant one thing; the lake would be frozen hard and solid. Time for ice skating.
The lake was the center of winter activity as well as summer fun in Woodbury Heights. A deep winter freeze meant thick ice on the lake, and the skaters would be there in droves. Families would dominate during the day on weekends, mostly the older kids and adults after dark.

One evening my Mom got it into her head that it was time for me to join in the fun and glide along with all the others.
It was frigid that night, and I was dressed to meet it. Long underwear, flannel shirt and heavy corduroy pants. Thick socks and a heavy padded coat and my hat and gloves. I must have had an extra twenty pounds of clothing between me and the evening's chill.
I was given a pair of training skates, these four bladed contraptions that you clamped onto your shoes. They were supposed to give you more stability as you learned how to make your way upon the glassy surface of the ice. I was dressed and I had my gear. Let's glide!
The lake was a picture perfect scene that night. Brisk night air, a bonfire and the skaters dancing in the glow of the flames on shore. I watched the line of people sliding effortlessly. Couples dancing in unison, and the most skilled of all doing figures and even skating backwards! This looked like fun.
I clamped on my blades on the steps of the pier and stood up to begin. My ankles responded by collapsing and I was flat on my back, the chill of the ice drilling through layers of heavy cotton and flannel.
Mom and my cousins helped me up and steadied me,and let me go. I put my foot out to slide but instead I slipped, face forward onto the ice. I would repeat this action over and over. No matter how hard I tried, I could not keep my balance, I could not master my blades. My body was sore and my clothes were wet, and I yearned for home and the safety of the living room couch. Who were these people who could sail with such grace on thin strips of steel across a field of ice? What was wrong with my ankles? If I hadn't been wearing my layers of winter clothes I surely would have broken something, that ice was hard! I was a sack of beans tossed among swans.I'll take sledding over this any day.
I couldn't wait to get home and drown my sorrow in a mug of hot chocolate.
Oh for spring.
And bicycles.

Aunt Irene,Cousin Linda and Mom getting ready to skate