When it is below -20°, just getting through the front door can be the hardest thing. Then it's half an hour driving through the darkness, over hill and highway, past field, farm and forest, through village and Vale to the destination. A swath of ice ribbons through the trees and around a frozen pair of ponds. Pull on the skates in the car, it's the last chance at warmth. The FM gods provide a gift: I'd wager we're the only ones blasting Judas Priest at the skating center. A Metal Meltdown warms our souls. Then we're out to hand the bills to the bored frozen kid in the hut. Guards off the blades before you hit the ice next time dummy! She laughs, helps me up, and we're down the trail.
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One lap, 3 or 4 kilometers, it is unbelievably beautiful skating through the night. Too much for the camera to capture, too cold to fiddle with the settings, my hands literally hurt going back in the gloves. Then warm up by a raging fire, laugh about the frost forming on her hair and in my stubble. The camera froze trying to get a picture of the fire, just said "nope" and shut down, way too cool for that nonsense, so we skate another lap. Her legs and hands are hurting, my cheeks are numb, we are tremendously happy, and the fireplace back home is beckoning. Thanks for getting me out there, my Love
