Annoyingly, I had forgotten something in town, which necessitated going back immediately. As a result, we opted to change up our regular local walking route, choosing to take the Pinafore Park trail around “Lake” Margaret.
The park was a popular destination, the weather having co-operated by being cold enough to allow skating. It was exhilarating to see people out: the day before, we were told, the over-65 seniors challenged the kids in a game and “got their butts kicked.” Arena sports are currently off-limits, so this brought a bit of impromptu joy into kids’ lives. It was an old-fashioned scene, harkening back to the days before sports were so organized. It brought back memories of happy childhood hours skating on the little pond in our farmyard.
Layer on clothes,
Lace up skates
Clomp to the pond
To join our mates.
Venture onto surface ice
Step by step, tiny, halting
Tentative, uncertain
Until we begin a-gliding.
And then we dream of canals
Or maybe a frozen river
So for hours we could skate
On and on, and on forever.
