There was snow on the beach of Grindstone Lake, and Nels' heart leapt for joy. His breath curled up in great clouds as he walked along the beach, watching the snow disappear as waves lapped the shore, only to repopulate the sand once the wave was gone.
Nels lived for winter; in the summer, living on the lake meant swimming lessons, and he was no good at swimming. The other boys teased him and near to drowned him with their "help."
But in winter, that was different. Grindstone Lake froze over, a good solid layer of ice. Strong enough to stand on, to skate on. Strong enough, even, to erect the ice house on, and bore holes for fishing. That's what Nels loved best.
The long quiet hours spent with his father in the ice house, waiting for fish. No nagging mother or chattering sisters, no other boys pushing and shoving and calling names. Just him and his strong father, breathing together, waiting in the cold.
Snow fell thickly on the beach now, a promise of long winter.
First snow
Nels lived for winter; in the summer, living on the lake meant swimming lessons, and he was no good at swimming. The other boys teased him and near to drowned him with their "help."
But in winter, that was different. Grindstone Lake froze over, a good solid layer of ice. Strong enough to stand on, to skate on. Strong enough, even, to erect the ice house on, and bore holes for fishing. That's what Nels loved best.
The long quiet hours spent with his father in the ice house, waiting for fish. No nagging mother or chattering sisters, no other boys pushing and shoving and calling names. Just him and his strong father, breathing together, waiting in the cold.
Snow fell thickly on the beach now, a promise of long winter.