There is a picture of me somewhere, I must have been seven or eight, standing in the centre of the pond in Rouken Glen, which is a big green place in the South Side of Glasgow.
It was one of those winters we had in the 70’s when everything froze. I am wearing red welly-boots and a grey balaclava knitted by my mum.
And, a few years ago, I think it must have been 2010 when I was back in Glasgow, visiting with my son who at the time must also have been seven or eight. It was another harsh winter, and the pond had frozen. With ice, thick enough not to crack underfoot.
And as I posed my son in the same place I had stood 40 years before, I could hear criticism from the side, as more safety-conscious parents tutted and sighed at my irresponsibility, for risking the life of my son for a once in a lifetime photo opportunity.
And today, I think back and wonder whether my dad received the same criticism from other parents then, or if, as I suspect, everyone just got on with it and tried to slide as fast as they could from one side to the other.
2 thoughts on “Ice (Rouken Glen)”
Didn’t your hero Paul Auster write a short story like this?
Possibly… I’d need to check.