walking on water

No one fell through the ice, which is the outcome I expected, of course, but part of the thrill of walking across a frozen pond is the existence of the possibility.

Others had the same idea. We passed parents and children building snowmen, middle aged lovers out for a stroll, and ice fishing groups lounging in foldable chairs. The latter enthralled my kids. “Can you please ask them if I can do it too?” my most extroverted child shout-whispered in my ear. Once I explained how boring ice fishing is, how it’s mostly just sitting around looking at a hole in the ice, he lost interest. Sweet relief. It’s not that I wouldn’t subject myself to the company of strangers for my child, but if I’m going to it better damn well be worth it.

Despite the arctic scene, the air was warm and full of sun. It didn’t take long for my children to rid themselves of the burden of their coats, heaps of offensively bright colors left haphazardly on the ice to be retrieved on our return trip. After a winter of smothering, all layers and walls, they had to breathe.

A walking bridge passes over the middle of the pond, and the children determined to scale the small hill to reach it so they could wave down to me. My daughter, the only girl, is the youngest and she brought up the rear, rebuffing every good natured attempt at help in any form. “I can do it mythelf!” She is patient with her body in a way few children are. I admire it greatly.

The bridge defeated, and only one mitten lost, we turned to retrace our steps. Spirits began to lag just a bit, legs had grown weary, but there was still a special something in the air: a bond, a shared joy. The oldest offered a piggyback ride to his brother. Afterwards, that brother offered one to his sister. And round and round they went.

Most days aren’t like this; most days I’m breaking up fights or negotiating toy hostage situations. But some days are — or, more accurately, some hours are — and we get to take them when they come.

We are emerging from winter; not quite to spring, but close enough to believe it will come. We have almost made it through another season of blizzard and darkness, and look, we still have each other. No one fell through the ice.

We picked up our coats and headed home.