{"id":2122,"date":"2020-01-19T16:20:53","date_gmt":"2020-01-19T21:20:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/bobwolff.org\/?p=2122"},"modified":"2020-01-19T16:26:58","modified_gmt":"2020-01-19T21:26:58","slug":"a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/","title":{"rendered":"A Brief Moment of Winter’s Chill"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Winter in New England, normally a time\nthat folks describe with a wide range of adjectives: miserable, wicked,\nunpleasant, difficult, or the like. To be fair, there are people who love the\ncold and snow, especially those who ski or skate or snowmobile, all genuinely\nfun activities that I\u2019ve enjoyed through my years. And while participating in\nthem, the cold is either unnoticeable or at least tolerable. Winter sports are\na great way to enjoy the winter and ignore the weather. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I have great memories of winter play, especially skating, sledding, and skiing, all of which I did as often as I could. Skiing was the hardest as you needed to go to a ski resort to do it and you needed a lot of equipment (and as a kid, you needed someone to drive you and pay for your ticket). But to sled or skate you only needed the sled or skates and once you had that, it was free \u2013 no transportation needed. A good pond or hill was always within walking distance, at least for me. Of course, the one other thing you needed for sledding was snow, which while generally predominant in winter, was not always there. When it snowed, it usually snowed a lot and we could sled for days on end. There were stretches without snow, especially in January when it was often too cold to snow, but February was always sure to bring snow, often measured in feet. The one thing you could always count on though, was skating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cold was a given here in the winter.\nOh, there would be a couple of days in February where temps would go up well\ninto the 40\u2019s, maybe even hit 50, but always short-lived and quickly replaced\nwith frigid temperatures once again. The cold nights would set in around\nNovember and by Thanksgiving I could be sure I\u2019d find ice somewhere; not on the\npond across the street perhaps, but deep in the woods there was always an area\nin a swamp frozen before everything else. And being a swamp in the woods, it\nwas basically unknown to the world and was my private treasure. I so enjoyed\ntesting the thin ice with at first one foot, then tentatively both, to see if\nit would hold me. Being a swamp, if it broke near the edge, I would only go in\nankle deep, so no big deal it the ice broke. But once it could finally hold my\nweight, I would baby step my way out deep into the center where it was deeper\nand would invariably catch my breath looking through the ice; it was like\nlooking through a picture yet with the world within still alive. While the\nsurface was frozen, the rest of the water was not and the slight current would\ngently move the vegetation beneath. Rarely you would see a small fish moving\ntoo, which was always a huge treat for me. The funny thing is that to sit in a\nboat and look into the water in the summer was something we did a lot and was\nnot all that special. But to peer into the same water through the ice in the\nwinter? Somehow that was magical. I am sure it had something to do with being\nable to \u201cwalk\u201d on the water and see everything, but also due to the fact that\nonce the ice fully froze, it was milky white and you could not see through it.\nEarly ice is thin ice and thin ice is clear \u2013 it appears black but only because\nyou can see through it into the dark waters. I am sure you\u2019ve all heard the\nexpression \u201cyou\u2019re skating on thin ice\u201d? At least around here we used to warn\neach other to stay off the black ice, because it meant it was thin ice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually the cold would more\nthoroughly lay its cloak over the whole land and all the bodies of water would\nfreeze. And that would begin the ritual of testing the ice. Black ice was a\ngiven \u2013 not safe (except for my swamp). But once the ice turned white, you\ncould still go through it; white did not mean safe. And being that it was a\npond, walking on it to test it usually meant that if the ice did break, you\nwere going in far past the ankles. And no one wanted that! So, we would begin\nwith throwing rocks onto the ice to see if it would crack upon impact. Looking\nback that was a seriously ineffective means of determining if the ice would\nsupport us, but at the time it made sense to us. Eventually I would pucker up\nand take those first few steps onto the ice and listen for the slightest\ntelltale sounds of it cracking. If that went well, the next step was a bit more\nrobust walking, quickly followed by jumping up and down on it. Not generally a\nrecommended means, but it was how I did it. If all went well up to that point,\nthe next thing was to make a hole in the ice to measure the thickness. I\nusually used my dad\u2019s hammer to break a hole through and then stick my hand in\nto feel the edge. TV and radio would regularly \nadvise their audience that 6\u201d  was\nthe safe minimum (I don\u2019t think they do that anymore, can\u2019t recall the last\ntime I heard that) but to us, it was a combination of how solid it felt, how\nlittle it cracked when we walked on it, and if all that worked out well, as\nlong as we had three or four inches, we were good to go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And once we were good, we were good\nfor days, even weeks. Living across the street from a pond, I could skate at\nwill \u2013 sometimes even before school, always after school, and every second that\nI could on the weekends, often to as late as 10PM when my parents would pull me\nin. It could be near zero degrees but if there was ice, I was on it. I remember\nbitterly frigid nights with the depth of the cold doubled with the speed of the\nskating, but it didn\u2019t matter \u2013 it was all about the skating. In the deep of\nthe freeze and the still of the night, ice begins to thunder; it booms as it\ncontracts with the deepening of the cold. Always startling, it is a sound I\nwill not ever forget. We\u2019d stop and listen and look around, knowing the ice\ndidn\u2019t just break, but still fearing the idea due to the sound. The pond was\nbasically set into the woods, with only 25% or so open to the neighborhood;\nthere were only two houses on the shore of the pond, and mine across the\nstreet. That provided very little light on the pond itself. One house had a\nsmall dock and they had a floodlight, so there was some light in that small\narea, and in fact was the most heavily populated area for neighborhood skaters\nat night. Only us bigger kids would venture out onto the rest of the pond,\nbehind the bog islands, and into the dark. It was magical and priceless and\nwill forever live in my mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Invariably, being winter, it would\nsnow. And the ice would instantly disappear under the white blanket. After a\nsnowfall, I was expected to shovel the driveway; a job I never enjoyed. Now in\norder to skate, you need clear ice \u2013 you can\u2019t skate in snow. And that meant\nsomeone had to shovel the ice. Let me assure you dear reader, I never had to be\nasked to do that job \u2013 I was always the first one out on the ice, shoveling for\nas long as it took to open an area big enough to skate in. Funny how the same\ntask is either a chore or a joy depending upon the need and desired end state! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

One other thing about the pond: the\nducks and geese. A former estate of a very wealthy man, the entire neighborhood\nhad been one massive estate with formal gardens filled with all sorts of rare\nand exotic plants and flowering shrubs, marble statutes, koi ponds, paths, and\nthis pond. And in this pond he kept ducks, swans, and geese, most of which\ncould not fly. They were, I guess, meant to be ornamental, and were cared for\nby his groundskeeper. After he died, a large part of the estate was divided\ninto parcels and houses were built. The estate was no more after that; the\ngardens were left to whims of Mother Nature, the koi ponds held no fish and\nonly dirty, muddy water. The pond stayed as it always was and the swans and\ngeese lived on there. But life for them was a little harsher lacking a\ngroundskeeper; they had to rely on the naturally occurring food in the pond\nrather than being fed (although through much of the year there were always\npeople stopping at the pond to throw them bread or some sort of food). The real\ndifficulty came with winter. They needed water but that was not to be found\nonce the cold came. And that meant that someone had to keep a hole open for\nthem to survive. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

To this day I have no idea if it was a spoken and organized effort or just the good hearts of the folks there, but every day, someone would go out on the ice and chop a hole in it large enough for the birds to swim around and eat\/drink. Every day. As I grew older, I joined their ranks and often took on that duty, bundling up and heading out on the ice with an ax to ensure the hole was open and was large enough. Most mornings it required nothing more than a look; the birds\u2019 motion would usually keep the water from freezing and no ice formed. Every so often we would have to open it up more as the ice would slowly being creeping in and making the hole smaller, and every couple of weeks, we would cut a new hole somewhere else on the pond and abandon the current one as the \u201cmess\u201d left by the birds would grow too large. The old hole would quickly freeze over, first a block hole and soon turning white and blending in with the surrounding ice. The first week or so after moving the hole, we\u2019d all have to adjust our skating to: 1) remember there was now a new gaping hole in the ice and 2) there was an old hole not yet safe to skate over. This whole discourse led to the tale I wrote of many posts ago on falling through the ice in “Call of the Wild”<\/a>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I cannot possibly count the number of\nnights I spent in the cold and dark on that pond, circling around the bends and\ncoves of the pond, dodging sticks and debris frozen into the ice, playing tag\nand hockey and racing and doing jumps and just playing with endless abandon,\nsome nights fully lit with shadows cast by the full moon and other nights dark\nas the deep wood.  And all the while the\ncold went unnoticed. And then I think back to the thousands of mornings when I\nwould wake up at 4AM and climb into the deep freezer that was my vehicle and\nshiver all the way to work. Once at work, for years working outside or in an\nunheated open-door hangar if indoors, I would stay cold all day. And at the end\nof the day I would climb back into the freezer-mobile and drive home, shivering\nall the way. Eventually I would climb into the shower where despite how hot I\nset the water I would never be able to warm up. And I compare those memories to\nthe memories of skating of sledding and I am astounded at the disparity between\nthe two memories. It harkens me back to that concept of relativity by Einstein\nto which I often refer: \u201cPut your\nhand on a hot stove<\/em> for a minute and it seems like an\nhour. Sit with a pretty girl<\/em> for an hour, and it seems like a\nminute.\u201d A ten-hour day of skating seems like merely the blink of eye while a\nten minute drive to work in a frigid car seems like it lasts an eternity. Relativity\u2026.\nperspective\u2026. fascinating! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\nseems to me that one\u2019s desire drives the relativity of the time; I know that if\nI now, at my ancient age, take my grandkids out to a hill to go sledding, that\nan hour will seem endless to me, standing and shivering while watching, while\nto them, that same hour will last mere seconds; to them the time vanishes like\ncotton candy to the tongue. And that is a great lesson of life. Yes, time is\nrelative and I think we all know it and marvel at it. But that isn\u2019t the lesson\nto which I refer, rather, that you need to always remember perspective in the\nmoment. While you may be cold and shivering with ice crystals slowly creeping\nthrough your toes and into your feet, your kids (or grandkids) perspective is\ncompletely different. To them, the cold is invisible and nonexistent \u2013 they are\nsimply having fun and are quite oblivious to it. And that is important to\nalways remember with kids \u2013 not just with skating or sledding but with\nanything. The passage of time is directly proportional to the joy and delight\nyou are personally basking in during the activity. That is relativity. So the\nnext time your kids (or grandkids) are shrieking with laughter and happiness,\nalways know that time is essentially standing still for them, regardless of the\nfact that the minutes are whizzing past for you; remembering that is a\npriceless gift to them!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Winter in New England, normally a time that folks describe with a wide range of adjectives: miserable, wicked, unpleasant, difficult, or the like. To be fair, there are people who love the cold and snow, especially those who ski or skate or snowmobile, all genuinely fun activities that I\u2019ve enjoyed through my years. And while […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2125,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"ocean_front_end_style_editor":"no","ocean_post_layout":"","ocean_both_sidebars_style":"","ocean_both_sidebars_content_width":0,"ocean_both_sidebars_sidebars_width":0,"ocean_sidebar":"0","ocean_second_sidebar":"0","ocean_disable_margins":"enable","ocean_add_body_class":"","ocean_shortcode_before_top_bar":"","ocean_shortcode_after_top_bar":"","ocean_shortcode_before_header":"","ocean_shortcode_after_header":"","ocean_has_shortcode":"","ocean_shortcode_after_title":"","ocean_shortcode_before_footer_widgets":"","ocean_shortcode_after_footer_widgets":"","ocean_shortcode_before_footer_bottom":"","ocean_shortcode_after_footer_bottom":"","ocean_display_top_bar":"default","ocean_display_header":"default","ocean_header_style":"","ocean_center_header_left_menu":"0","ocean_custom_header_template":"0","ocean_custom_logo":0,"ocean_custom_retina_logo":0,"ocean_custom_logo_max_width":0,"ocean_custom_logo_tablet_max_width":0,"ocean_custom_logo_mobile_max_width":0,"ocean_custom_logo_max_height":0,"ocean_custom_logo_tablet_max_height":0,"ocean_custom_logo_mobile_max_height":0,"ocean_header_custom_menu":"0","ocean_menu_typo_font_family":"0","ocean_menu_typo_font_subset":"","ocean_menu_typo_font_size":0,"ocean_menu_typo_font_size_tablet":0,"ocean_menu_typo_font_size_mobile":0,"ocean_menu_typo_font_size_unit":"px","ocean_menu_typo_font_weight":"","ocean_menu_typo_font_weight_tablet":"","ocean_menu_typo_font_weight_mobile":"","ocean_menu_typo_transform":"","ocean_menu_typo_transform_tablet":"","ocean_menu_typo_transform_mobile":"","ocean_menu_typo_line_height":0,"ocean_menu_typo_line_height_tablet":0,"ocean_menu_typo_line_height_mobile":0,"ocean_menu_typo_line_height_unit":"","ocean_menu_typo_spacing":0,"ocean_menu_typo_spacing_tablet":0,"ocean_menu_typo_spacing_mobile":0,"ocean_menu_typo_spacing_unit":"","ocean_menu_link_color":"","ocean_menu_link_color_hover":"","ocean_menu_link_color_active":"","ocean_menu_link_background":"","ocean_menu_link_hover_background":"","ocean_menu_link_active_background":"","ocean_menu_social_links_bg":"","ocean_menu_social_hover_links_bg":"","ocean_menu_social_links_color":"","ocean_menu_social_hover_links_color":"","ocean_disable_title":"default","ocean_disable_heading":"default","ocean_post_title":"","ocean_post_subheading":"","ocean_post_title_style":"","ocean_post_title_background_color":"","ocean_post_title_background":0,"ocean_post_title_bg_image_position":"","ocean_post_title_bg_image_attachment":"","ocean_post_title_bg_image_repeat":"","ocean_post_title_bg_image_size":"","ocean_post_title_height":0,"ocean_post_title_bg_overlay":0.5,"ocean_post_title_bg_overlay_color":"","ocean_disable_breadcrumbs":"default","ocean_breadcrumbs_color":"","ocean_breadcrumbs_separator_color":"","ocean_breadcrumbs_links_color":"","ocean_breadcrumbs_links_hover_color":"","ocean_display_footer_widgets":"default","ocean_display_footer_bottom":"default","ocean_custom_footer_template":"0","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"ocean_post_oembed":"","ocean_post_self_hosted_media":"","ocean_post_video_embed":"","ocean_link_format":"","ocean_link_format_target":"self","ocean_quote_format":"","ocean_quote_format_link":"post","ocean_gallery_link_images":"off","ocean_gallery_id":[],"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2122","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-perspective","entry","has-media"],"yoast_head":"\nA Brief Moment of Winter's Chill - Through the Eyes of a Wolff<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"A Brief Moment of Winter's Chill - Through the Eyes of a Wolff\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Winter in New England, normally a time that folks describe with a wide range of adjectives: miserable, wicked, unpleasant, difficult, or the like. To be fair, there are people who love the cold and snow, especially those who ski or skate or snowmobile, all genuinely fun activities that I\u2019ve enjoyed through my years. 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To be fair, there are people who love the cold and snow, especially those who ski or skate or snowmobile, all genuinely fun activities that I\u2019ve enjoyed through my years. And while […]","og_url":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/","og_site_name":"Through the Eyes of a Wolff","article_published_time":"2020-01-19T21:20:53+00:00","article_modified_time":"2020-01-19T21:26:58+00:00","og_image":[{"width":1024,"height":683,"url":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/01\/watch.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"Bob Wolff","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_creator":"@Wolff162","twitter_site":"@Wolff162","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Bob Wolff","Est. reading time":"12 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"Article","@id":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/#article","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/"},"author":{"name":"Bob Wolff","@id":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8c85922d8561235810cd93980568a500"},"headline":"A Brief Moment of Winter’s Chill","datePublished":"2020-01-19T21:20:53+00:00","dateModified":"2020-01-19T21:26:58+00:00","mainEntityOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/"},"wordCount":2351,"commentCount":0,"publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8c85922d8561235810cd93980568a500"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/01\/watch.jpg","articleSection":["Perspective"],"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"CommentAction","name":"Comment","target":["https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/#respond"]}]},{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/","url":"https:\/\/bobwolff.org\/index.php\/2020\/01\/19\/a-brief-moment-of-winters-chill\/","name":"A Brief Moment of Winter's Chill - 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