As soon as cold weather sets in for good with a few hard freezing days you see them popping up in back yards and front lawns, on town greens and in public parks. Temporary ice ponds are more fun than indoor skating rinks sealed off from the sky with their loud music echoing off the walls, and more reliably smooth and frozen than the local river or pond which may have tricky thin spots and detritus embedded in the surface.
Like nature’s vernal pools of spring whose fishless waters are a haven for the growth of amphibians and insects, these hibernal pools have their own special ecology. They are a nursery of young future figure skaters and hockey players, an epicenter of simple, stress shedding fun. They are frozen, still-water fountains of youth for those getting on in years. Perhaps Ponce De Leon would have explored more northern climes had he known of the age ameliorating affects of skating.
Anyone who’s ever donned a pair of sharp blades and gotten into a rhythm knows that skating is about as close as a human being can get to flying while still keeping both feet on the ground. A pair of ice skates might as well be talaria, those winged sandals worn by the Mercury, the speedy messenger god of Roman mythology.
On a recent trip of less than twenty miles I happened to pass four hibernal pools. Three of them were busy with skaters, some of whom were barely old enough to walk and others aged enough to use a cane. Couples went arm in arm, while young men prowled with hockey sticks and a girl did twirls in an outfit that featured a skirt and leotards. Parents steered their little ones on double runners.
In view of the gold domed State Capitol, Hartford’s Bushnell Park has an outdoor rink that’s averaging 1,000 skaters per day. The ice on Pine Meadow Green in rural New Hartford was busy with skaters on New Year’s Eve. Overlooked by large stately homes from the nineteenth century and a white spired church, the site brims with a Currier and Ives quality.
My friend Pete Hiza has had a roughly pentagonal 1,800 square foot hibernal pool in his Collinsville backyard for about a decade-and-a-half. Like many small rinks, it’s built mostly with two 2 by 10 pieces of lumber for the sides and a thick sheet of polyethylene for a bladder. He says the two most important ingredients for a successful homemade rink are a shady spot and neighbors with strong backs and modest skills with a nail gun who are eager to help with the annual task of construction. Pete has been blessed with ample shares of both.
Needless to say, his is a family of fine skaters. But beyond that, Pete’s ice has become a community institution, its labors and delights gratefully shared by friends and neighbors at a point in the year when we need every good reason to spend time outside.