dizzily on ice

In the coldest days of January, before the miserable wetness of global warming hit us again, there was a skating track prepared on the ice on the bay.

I dug out my skates (bought for me by my father in my sixteenth year), laced them up and dizzily headed out on the track. I veered crazily from side to side, gritted my teeth against the pain in my ankles (not used to this) and listened to the silence of the frozen sea.