A Year Started in the Cold

January always felt quieter when I was in elementary school, especially 2021. The vacation had started, but everything still felt new. It was so unfamiliar, there was no school bell in the morning, my mom let me wake up late. I wrapped myself in a warm blanket, listening to my mom moving around. Outside, the world looked still. The streets were quieter, and the sun felt weaker, as if it was taking a break too.

 

Most days, I went skating for a few hours. I felt excited every time I stepped onto the ice.

 

In particular, I skated with pro skaters at my age. The cold air brushed against my cheeks, and the sharp sound of blades carving the ice echoed through the ice. Every push made me feel lighter, like I was gliding over glass instead of frozen water. I wasn’t the best skater there, but when I practiced with skaters my age who were already so skilled, I felt motivated rather than nervous.

 

During breaks. I sat by the rink, my breath turning into small clouds in the air. I watched other people practice, listening to music playing faintly from the speakers. The rink lights reflected off the ice, making the quiet streets outside. Time passed differently there. Hours felt like minutes. And I never wanted to leave.

 

After skating, my mom and I’d walk outside, and the cold winter air felt even sharper after the warmth of moving. She often bought me a warm drink, and I held the cup tightly, letting the heat spread through my fingers. My body felt tired, but it was the good kind of tired, and it made me feel proud. Those days made January feel less lonely and gave my winter vacation a special rhythm I still remember clearly.