winch.
Phew! That was a close thing. I always thought that Uncle Frank, being a sort of thinking dude, would have come at me with a hard hitting quotation from the wisdom of William Blake. Something that included frosty mornings, warm beds and John Deere tractors.
But I was wrong.
Even Uncle Frank had his dark side. One thing was for sure though, this was the first and last time I pulled that stunt. From then on I hit the floor, first call…
I dressed quickly and then the two of us rode on down to the milking shed. I had awoken to a different world out there. The entire hill that the house stood on, the gate posts, the hedges; everything as far as I could see was a wonderland of thick white frost. Even the roof of the cowshed twinkled in the moonlight. What was even more amazing though was the mountain. Normally it was just a sort of charcoal pyramid with a dusting of snow in the creases, but this time it was covered in deep fluffy white stuff from top to toe. It looked like a huge slab of ice creamhovering above the dark green bush line.
Maybe Iain had been talking to his dad about what happened at the Crystal Pool, maybe it was going to happen anyway, but after breakfast Uncle Frank declared that we were all going up the mountain. I found out later that this was a big deal because he had never taken the boys up there before. I couldn’t help wondering whether he was doing this to cheer me up.
This time the two adults and Wee Jock were in the front, and the five of us kids were bouncing around in the back. The Landrover was a fridge on wheels. The heater only heated the front cabin and so small puffs of steam lingered around everyone’s mouths. Every metal surface was freezing to the touch and it was mostly bare metal in the back. We were all bundled up in as many layers as possible but it seemed to make little difference. Iain pulled his beanie so low over his head you could only see his nose. Jamie kept his eyes glued to the side window and was singing “
There is a tavern in the town
,” in a really low voice. It wasn’t a song I knew but by the time we had got up the mountain I reckon I had heard it ten times right through … starting to hum it myself. The twins were wearing matching brown jackets and they were hunched up by the tailgate. With their brown jackets and their neat little heads they looked just like a couple of sparrows. As we drove on there was a hum from under the floor that got louder and louder. It turned into a whine. As its pitch got higher I could feel myself becoming tense, it was like anything could happen.
Even before we made the bush line there were flecks of snow in the shady parts next to the road, but once we passed the entrance to the National Park it was everywhere; clinging to the tops of trees like white hair, painting the round rocks in the stream beds we flashed by. Before long there was only a narrow black part in the middle of the white road. No one talked, we drove on sort of awestruck by its radiance. Soon, every last trace of tar seal disappeared and the road became a flat white path heading ever upwards. The steady blare of the coarse-treaded tyres stopped and now it was as though we were floating an inch or so clear of the road. We all just stared out the windows at the white world all around us.
Still we climbed, higher and higher into a new white world until at last we reached a flat area. It might have been a car park; there was no way of telling, but Uncle Frank pulled over and we all piled out. I stood there turning slowly around trying to take it in. I had never been in snow before. It was cold, silent and untouched. I thought of Mum.
Next thing I knew I had been hit in the open mouth by a snowball. It was Dougal. From then on the spell was broken and war was declared. Snow was flying sideways at a furious pace. Direct hits were scored and it was a point of pride to see who was the best. As it happened, Aunty Lorna was the stand-out chucker. She had a
Phew! That was a close thing. I always thought that Uncle Frank, being a sort of thinking dude, would have come at me with a hard hitting quotation from the wisdom of William Blake. Something that included frosty mornings, warm beds and John Deere tractors.
But I was wrong.
Even Uncle Frank had his dark side. One thing was for sure though, this was the first and last time I pulled that stunt. From then on I hit the floor, first call…
I dressed quickly and then the two of us rode on down to the milking shed. I had awoken to a different world out there. The entire hill that the house stood on, the gate posts, the hedges; everything as far as I could see was a wonderland of thick white frost. Even the roof of the cowshed twinkled in the moonlight. What was even more amazing though was the mountain. Normally it was just a sort of charcoal pyramid with a dusting of snow in the creases, but this time it was covered in deep fluffy white stuff from top to toe. It looked like a huge slab of ice creamhovering above the dark green bush line.
Maybe Iain had been talking to his dad about what happened at the Crystal Pool, maybe it was going to happen anyway, but after breakfast Uncle Frank declared that we were all going up the mountain. I found out later that this was a big deal because he had never taken the boys up there before. I couldn’t help wondering whether he was doing this to cheer me up.
This time the two adults and Wee Jock were in the front, and the five of us kids were bouncing around in the back. The Landrover was a fridge on wheels. The heater only heated the front cabin and so small puffs of steam lingered around everyone’s mouths. Every metal surface was freezing to the touch and it was mostly bare metal in the back. We were all bundled up in as many layers as possible but it seemed to make little difference. Iain pulled his beanie so low over his head you could only see his nose. Jamie kept his eyes glued to the side window and was singing “
There is a tavern in the town
,” in a really low voice. It wasn’t a song I knew but by the time we had got up the mountain I reckon I had heard it ten times right through … starting to hum it myself. The twins were wearing matching brown jackets and they were hunched up by the tailgate. With their brown jackets and their neat little heads they looked just like a couple of sparrows. As we drove on there was a hum from under the floor that got louder and louder. It turned into a whine. As its pitch got higher I could feel myself becoming tense, it was like anything could happen.
Even before we made the bush line there were flecks of snow in the shady parts next to the road, but once we passed the entrance to the National Park it was everywhere; clinging to the tops of trees like white hair, painting the round rocks in the stream beds we flashed by. Before long there was only a narrow black part in the middle of the white road. No one talked, we drove on sort of awestruck by its radiance. Soon, every last trace of tar seal disappeared and the road became a flat white path heading ever upwards. The steady blare of the coarse-treaded tyres stopped and now it was as though we were floating an inch or so clear of the road. We all just stared out the windows at the white world all around us.
Still we climbed, higher and higher into a new white world until at last we reached a flat area. It might have been a car park; there was no way of telling, but Uncle Frank pulled over and we all piled out. I stood there turning slowly around trying to take it in. I had never been in snow before. It was cold, silent and untouched. I thought of Mum.
Next thing I knew I had been hit in the open mouth by a snowball. It was Dougal. From then on the spell was broken and war was declared. Snow was flying sideways at a furious pace. Direct hits were scored and it was a point of pride to see who was the best. As it happened, Aunty Lorna was the stand-out chucker. She had a
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