Walking on snow is not terribly difficult-it’s somewhat similar to walking on dry sand. There’s a funny squeaky sound if you hit it just right, and you sink down quite a bit.
Walking on the ice that’s formed after the snow melts a little bit and refreezes overnight is an entirely different story.
When I was about twelve years old, my brother and I visited a little ice skating rink inside the mall. Lucas is good at just about everything he puts a little bit of effort into, and was soon gliding around the rink like he’d been doing it his whole life. I, on the other hand, am not such a natural. I clung to the wall like it was my only chance for survival. (Incidentally, I’m the same way on roller skates.) This week, I felt like that twelve-year-old again.
It’s taken me twice as long to walk anywhere this week, because I stick right to the inner edge of the sidewalk where the storefront awnings have created a little dry space between the walls and the ice. My fellow exchange students from Canada and the upper Mid West find it absolutely hilarious that I’m so scared to walk normally, but I can’t help it! I’m just not used to this weather, and I don’t think I’m going to figure it out anytime soon. Le printemps can’t get here quick enough!