Schedule a tour of campus

Skating to the Edge of the Night by Andrew Kutt

2018 Sunday, April 8

As uncle Bob led us across the snow-covered pasture, I looked up and saw Venus shining brightly just above the lavender and pink-streaked horizon.  I took a deep breath, and as the cold night air surged into my lungs, I felt a sense of adventure.  Down the hillside we slid to the edge of the pond.  My brother Matt and my four cousins and I began strapping on our ice-skates as Bob began to gather a kindling for a fire.  The full moon was rising behind the pines across the pond from us. 

Soon I was gliding along in circles, as the moonlight glistened on the smooth black ice below me.  Meanwhile, flames from the fire danced in the darkness.  I skated in and out of light beams and silhouettes.  I felt the winter air against my face.  I was in a new world of luminescence, mysterious shadows, crystalline air,  and primeval flames.  I felt a visceral, organic connection between myself and the natural world.  Strangely, as stark and raw and cold as it was, I felt a sense of security and well-being.  I felt at home.  I was existing inside a feeling of total freedom, which kept expanding and expanding.  

 Stopping to rest, we gathered around the fire.  While we’d been skating, uncle Bob had wrapped potatoes in tin foil, punctured them with holes, and placed them in the hot embers. Now we carefully unwrapped the steaming potatoes, cut them in half and slathered them with butter.  I got big morsel onto my fork, cooled it down enough, and put it into my mouth.  The mélange of steaming potato, charcoal, melted butter and bits of dirt was transcendental.  I felt as if I had never really tasted a potato before – so pure, so distinct, so rich was the experience.  Meanwhile, I looked out across the moon-lit ice pond.  I felt happy – alive. 

To experience life directly, head on, without any buffer, is what skating on the ice pond provided for me.

Read More

Share