On a clear, cold morning with hoar frost magically coating the world in
crystals, the girls gave knowing glances to each other as they finished bowls
of oatmeal. No need for communicating plans, it was understood as the sun
rose on the transformed landscape. Coat, mittens, hats and the
temporarily dry galoshes were hurriedly donned. The back door smacked
loudly as the girls jumped off the porch, their breath in puffs like small
steam engines. First stop was to pick up the girls' next door neighbor and friend. Sing song shout
at the front door brought her always-suspicious mother. The trio smiled
angelically. Ready in a flash she whizzed by her
mother and out the door, knowing instinctively the destination. Mothers, if
asked, would not approve. Out-to-play was all the information required.
The hard freeze made the
ground crunch as the girls followed the well-worn path to their three ponds in
the in the woods. The first pond was called the First Pond, the closest and
most visited. In the spring, before the mosquitoes formed a barricade and
then again in the fall as cooler temperatures beat the pests back, the woods
was a magical kingdom where they reign.
Standing beside the clear frozen pond, the edges
were tested for weight bearing capacity with tentative shuffles and then stomps
and pokes with a stick. Today it is perfect. Delighted smiles spread across their
individual faces. The smallest sister is to be the first to traverse the
open pond. Overjoyed and needing no encouragement, off she goes sliding
and moving quickly to the cheers of those on the bank. From the squeaking and
undulation of the ice as she crossed, the girls know today they have been given
a gift of nature, RUBBER ICE!
One at a time, to squeals of
laughter, each girl takes her turn as the ice undulates and sounds its
crackling warnings. Hearts race as each
child intensely experiences the unity of hope and fear. Back and forth
the girls fly, speed and sliding agility being supremely important as they
witness the solid waving under foot that give rubber ice its name. Take too much time in
one spot and the weight will break a hole. There comes a time when the laws of
physics and nature ate tested to their limits. A foot breaks through and
plunges into the cold water flooding a golash quickly followed by the other.
With both boots flooded and sinking down to the mucky bottom, each in those
brief seconds experience the last icy thrill of adventure, grateful that the
First Pond is only knee deep. Happy and soggy footed the girls of Clinton Avenue slosh home
to be greeted by their mothers. "We got soakers," trying to
explain the accidental circumstances of wet feet and pant legs. Mother
would smile knowingly as the swamp water was dumped from boots and shoes and wrung from socks.
