Nothing compares to Christmas break
Lina Domenella | Wednesday, February 26, 2020
As spring break approaches, students excitedly talk about their plans and trips, myself included. I can’t wait for a week off from school in warm, sunny Florida. But as I think back to all of the other times that we’ve had off school, there is nothing like the memories of Christmas break:
The snow crunches under the heavy car as we pull up to the log cabin that we know so well. Everything is covered in a thick blanket of snow from the ground to the lake up to the cabin.
The loud hum of the snowmobile fills my ears and the familiar smell of the snowmobile gas creeps up my nose. The cold and crisp air hits my face, immediately turning my nose red. Greeted first by Amber, an excited golden retriever who always runs up to us and almost knocks us down, my family and I step out of the car and stretch our legs after the eight-hour ride.
Amber’s family follows her out to hug us before helping carry in all of our bags in addition to the coolers of food that we brought. The closest town is a 30-minute drive away and we hope to only have to go there once during our busy week.
The warmth encompasses me as I walk up the stairs and into the cabin. The crackling sound of the fire fills my ears and the carpet beneath my feet comforts me. The log cabin gives a homey feel and the Christmas tree in the corner a festive one. The floor-to-ceiling windows next to the Christmas tree are filled with the dark starry night sky; even though the house is heated, the window is cold to the touch.
When I pull out my phone, I am not surprised to see that there is no service, as there never is up here.
Following our arrival is a week-long adventure of lazy wake-ups, long and cold snowmobile trips through the snow-covered forests to and from lunch, family dinners and games. There is occasional sledding, snow-angel making, ice skating and ice fishing. The latter two I choose to skip out on as I don’t know how to ice skate, I don’t like fishing and I get cold really easily. Instead, I choose to sit by the fire, read a book and sip hot cocoa.
Soon enough it is time to pack up our bags, pile in the car and head home, snow crunching under the tires as we pull out of the driveway.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.