Waiting For the Cold

We're in grade twelve, my friend, Chelsey, and I. Most people would think we would be dating boys, shopping at the mall, or at the very least, making up fake identities on the Internet. Instead, we're presently tromping merrily down into the fields, on this cold January day, only weeks before the big provincial exams. Regardless, the only thing on our mind presently is playing on the ice ponds.

Ice. It's only frozen water; it's cold; it gets wet if you lie on it long enough, and if you fall, it really hurts. So why does it appeal to us? Why have my friend and I waited all winter in anticipation of this past week's minus seven-degree conditions to go stand in the frozen fields? There's no logical answer, it's just fun. I remember doing this as a small child. I remember the exact ditch down here where I lost the garage door opener, the stream where our old dog Tootsie once fell in and Dad and I had to make a human chain to pull her out of the broken ice, and walking on the ice - unsure of its thickness - and sending my sister across first, since she weighed more than I did. Now, the cold air rubs my cheeks raw as I venture out once more across cold glass, admiring the delicate plant-life trapped under the ice and gazing up at the bald eagle wheeling overhead. Chelsey and I make pathetic snow-angels in the thin frost and futilely attempt to push each other across the slippery ice underfoot. By the ditch, the ice is thinnest and we goad each other farther out until the ice cracks underfoot. Our fun is senseless and silly, but the simple, thoughtless pleasure of old childhood games has become the most craved and elusive of fruit in a time in my life when I must be thinking most about growing up. Yet, it's not usually this cold in the winter, and the ice won't stay forever; I don't know when we'll have a chance like this again. Sometimes, I think an important part of growing up is knowing when to act like a kid again an seizing the opportunity when it comes. Growing up isn't the same as growing old, and when you don't take the chance when it's offered? I think that's when you're aging. So are the games we play now beneficial in the grand scheme of our lives? Sure. We're better people when we take the time to waste time and regress. It's people who aren't afraid to be children who are most happy and who truly know what is important in their lives.

When our play is over and we trudge home cold, wet and comparing various discomforts, we'll return to our responsibilities and our lives, though it'll all seem a lot less scary for the time we shared.