Behind our house was a woods. More like undeveloped land. I remember trekking through drifts of snow with my brothers and sister to go ice skating on a pond. It was big enough to support a pick-up game of hockey and for the beginner such as myself to make circles. Once (or maybe more than that, but at least once as far as I recall) my sister fell in and kids made a chain, the last person, possibly my brother, on his stomach, to fish her out. She walked home with us soaking wet. A few times my mother drove us and we were able to put on our skates in the warmth of the car. She waited for us to finish with thermoses of hot chocolate.