A Short Story
Sometimes they have walked around the sledging hill in winter, and Alex will look longingly down the grassy slope. Sometimes it's even white over with ice, or a dusting of snow. Dad will look at it, shake his head sadly, and say: "It never snows enough to sledge on these days, does it dear?" And Mum will say, "No dear, not like it used to." And Alex will stand at the top of the bank and imagine.
It has been cold again this year. Today, Alex is sitting in the front room, by the bay window, watching the snow. It's been snowing since early morning, the ground is white over, and it's still coming down.
Dad comes downstairs from his home office. Alex catches his eye and asks: "Do you think we'll be able to sledge?" And he replies "Maybe, soon, maybe we will" - another ritual, they have this exchange every time it snows. But this time, Alex thinks there's more belief in Dad's answer.
After lunch there's enough settled on the ground to make snowballs, and stop the cars on the side streets. Alex goes out with several of his friends and has a good fight around the adventure playground, the equipment plastered on a soft cover, perfect to hide behind. Then they see how big a snowball they can roll around the rec - it's well over a metre tall when they abandon it near the penalty spot, something the groundsman for the football club will undoubtedly be on their back about soon enough.
When he comes home, the first thing he sees is Mum at the door, ready to complain about how long he's been out, why didn't you tell us where you were, and aren't those your good gloves. He takes all of these in the good grace on which they were delivered, hangs his coat and gloves on the pros above the radiator, and goes through to the kitchen to get a drink. And who does he see but Dad, kneeling down with the sledge at his feet.
Drink forgotten, Alex goes over as Dad gets up to meet him. "Can we, Dad? Can we?"
"I'm just checking it over. But it seems fine. If this settles properly we might get out tomorrow." He sees Alex's grin and adds: "No promises. We'll see."
Alex wakes early, the grey of night still in the sky. The view from his bedroom window is monochrome, a blanket of white still covering the garden and houses. He flicks on his phone for the time: 08.20, on a Sunday; no-one would be up yet. He spends a few minutes dozing until he hears his parents getting up and going through their morning routine, then he gets up himself and joins them.
All through breakfast he is looking up at then between mouthfuls, just waiting to ask. Eventually he can't resist any longer and does ask: "Dad, can we take the sledge out today?"
Dad puts down his mug of tea and considered. "Let's take it up the hill and see, after we've finished breakfast."
They did, Dad holding it apparently effortlessly with one hand for the walk over. (Alex had tried picking it up once and it seemed pretty heavy to him.) There were plenty of walking and dog tracks in the snow already, and a few people bouncing down the slope in the plastic sledges Mum would disparagingly refer to as 'tea-trays'.
Dad put the sledge down carefully at the top of the slope. Alex moves towards it, but Mum is already there with her hand out. "Let me go first, to check it's safe", she says. Alex frowns but stops.
"She's been waiting for the snow like this for years", says Dad as Mum gets on the sledge. She shuffles forward, releases the brake, and off she goes! A couple of gentle curves, a braked skid near the hedge at the end of the field, and she was done, getting off and starting the drag back up the hill.
When she got up near them, Alex could see the huge smile on her face.
"Me next!" he says as she puts the sledge down.
"You come down with me the first time", replies Dad. "I'll show you how to steer." Dad sits at the back, so Alex can see, and down they go! The cold air rushing past his face, the feeling of speed over the bumpy ground, even crashing in a shower of snow when his weight moves wrongly and unbalances them - all of it fits in with his imagination, yet is still gloriously surprising. He's running up the hill for another go as soon as he gets up.
They go around all morning, all combinations of two, and then Alex gets to go on his own, once he knows what he's doing. At some point his friend Sam comes out with two plastics to join them, so all of them can sledge at the same time.
Mum and Dad go home for lunch, but they don't protest much when Alex says he'll come back 'soon', as long as he brings the sledge back in one piece. Other parents were doing the same thing, so the hill became a snowy playground, with snowball fights, making big balls to roll down the slope, and snowmen, mixed in with trying out each other's sledges.
Something like two hours later, and Sam's mum calls to say that the family is supposed to be going out so could Sam come home please. Alex decides that he's tired and missing his lunch too, so the two of them walk back to town, chattering all the way. Alex drags the sledge by the rope; it still seems heavy to carry.
When he gets home, Dad takes the sledge to hang it back up. "There, want that good fun?" he asks. Alex nods in reply, and Dad continues as he lifts the sledge. "Maybe we can go back after school tomorrow."
But tomorrow dawns cloudy and damp, and by mid morning it's raining. By lunchtime, the snow on the playground has melted away, and by the end of the day there's no white to be seen. When he gets home, Mum takes him up to the hill to see - the slope is a muddy mess, no snow left except the snowmen and the big snow balls that rolled into the hedge at the bottom.
"Ah well", says Mum. "I'm sure we'll be able to get it out again soon."
GCSE mocks are just around the corner for 16 year old Alex. He's been revising all holiday, but today he's got a few friends round to relax around the PlayStation.
"Hey, you've so got that old thing", Sam says to Alex's mum, coming in through the back door and looking up at the sledge.
"Of course we do. You know, we haven't had it out since you kids played with it, back when you were in primary school." She took Sam's coat and hung it up on the hooks. "But maybe this weekend, you can try it again, there's snow forecast overnight."
Alex came through from the living room to join in. "Hey, Sam. That'd be nice, wouldn't it, Mum?" He didn't want to spend all day on it like a little kid, and being seen out with your parents is not cool, but ... it would be nice to use it again. "There's a few of us by the TV already, come through when you're ready" - and he went back to the games.
They stayed up late playing games, with all the ones from any of their accounts to choose from. But Alex was still awake early, getting up to look out the window at ... cold fog and wet ground.
"Well, this is a disappointment", said his dad when he came downstairs for breakfast, gesturing with his teacup at the sight outside. "It's just a couple of degrees too warm, that show came as rain."
Alex's parents are retired now, and they're moving to a smaller house; the garden's a bit much for them these days. He's helping them sort through the decades of stuff that's accumulated, and working out what to keep.
Above the back door he sees the sledge, dusty now and its runners dulled. Even his dad had given up keeping it snow ready years ago. Alex took it down from its hooks, brushing cobwebs and dust off.
"You're still holding onto this, eh? Do you think you'll ever be able to use it again?"
His mum shook her head sadly. "We haven't even seen snow for years, never mind enough to sledge on. Do you remember ..."
"Last time, when I was ten?" Alex finished for her. She smiled, get face looking younger momentarily as she relived that 30 year old experience. "I remember."
After a moment, his mum sighed. "If you want it, take it. There no point us hanging it up in the new place."
In the end Alex did take it. It's hanging on the wall in his stairwell, where he sees it every day and remembers the fun of that day as a child. It's not easy to get it down from there, but it doesn't really matter, because it never snows these days anyway.
Will you, or your children, be Alex and Sam? Climate change is making snow in Oxfordshire come less often and disappear more quickly. Be conscious of what you can do to help slow it down.