Friday Fictioneers, Feb 24th – A Canadian Childhood

My childhood was spent in northern Ontario. While most people dread winter, I have very fond memories of sledding, cross-country skiing and skating during the long winter months. My heart races at the sight of snow even after spending 28 years fighting snarled traffic in the area around Toronto. Now that I am retired, I spend most of my time in Arizona. I miss snow, marveling that it makes no sound as it falls, and hearing it squeak under my feet on very cold nights.

I want to give a special thank you to Rochelle for picking this week’s photo. Thank you Sarah Potter for providing the wonderful photo.

Don’t know about this challenge, want to join? Visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields at https://rochellewisoff.com.

january-snowfall-nighttime
PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

The cold glass bit my nose. Fog turned the solitary figure into a blur. Using my sleeve, I wiped the glass. In the glow of the streetlight, his shoulders hunched against the cold, my father walked back and forth swinging the garden hose in broad arcs.
My mother’s relief had entwined with mine when we discover last year’s skates still fit. Soon I would be twirling across that glistening surface. My jumps as high as my imagination would take me.
Sadly, seasons changed, years passed. Those days of backyard skating rinks lasted no longer than the blink of an eye.

Word Count: 100

Like the story, let me know. Have advice on how to improve it, please let me know. Click HERE to fall down the rabbit hole to more stories based on the photo prompt.

 

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24 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers, Feb 24th – A Canadian Childhood

  1. Such a wonderful memory. A friend of mine lived in Pointed Claire, West island of Montreal. His backyard was a nice width but really deep. His rink was spectacular!

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  2. What a beautiful memory to have. I remember building ice houses in the back yard from all the snow from the street that Daddy asked them to drop in our yard (the only yard large enough on the street). We would go out and tunnel into the banks and ‘ice them down’ with water so they wouldn’t collapse on us. Then, we would spend the night(s) inside. We’d build a fire and roast weiners and marshmallows. One of the very very few memories I have of Daddy.

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    1. What great memories you have. It’s not the quantity but the quality that warms our hearts. My son and his scout troupe would go winter camping and built ice houses, I was always frightened they would collapse on them but they assured me they iced them by leaving candles in them all day.

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    1. Snow is such a part of my childhood I can not imagine not experiencing it. I am sure that you have my cherished experiences that I have never had. Thanks for dropping by.

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  3. I loved your intro and the nostalgia this piece evoked. Perhaps we’ll do one this summer on favorite swimming holes. It’s always nice to learn more about our fellow Fictioneers.

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