I’m enjoying the taste of winter we’ve had the last couple of days. Not ridiculously cold, but a wintry crispness with a hint of wood smoke in the air. I’ve been reminded of winters past.
I guess temps are going to moderate and by Friday it’ll be in the mid 40s. Oh well. I’ll always have the memory of getting home from school and heading to the pond, skates and stick in hand, homemade nets, a good sized rink, and enough neighborhood kids to play a spirited game of hockey until the sun went down.
We had a good thing going there, first at the little pond across the street, and then on the big pond behind our house. We actually learned how to skate and stick handle pretty well, but I never had the stamina or temperament to consider playing in a league. It was just the fresh air, the freedom of movement, those rare days when we could skate the whole pond. And especially those moments when we connected on a pass or scored on a tipped slap shot just like Bobby Orr and company were doing.
It was great fun. It made winter bearable, maybe even my favorite season.