Sledding in the Sun-Kissed Trenches

As long as the sun still visits Hoonah every now and then, I keep the faith that God has not entirely forgotten this little town. Sunday the grey skies cleared and light warmed our faces and lured us outside to play.

It was a glorious day, quickly leaving the teens and hovering in the mid thirties until sundown. Steve persuaded Andrew to go outside with the idea of digging a trench for sledding down the hill behind our house. They “worked” for hours. When I arrived on the scene the trench was about 30 yards long and Andrew whizzed by me sliding to a stop in our driveway. His face was flushed and he whooped and hollered at the great ride. Steve had shed his coat and down vest and was intent in shoveling the trench farther up the hill,“just a few more feet should do it.” Fifty yards up the hill and the sledding trench was complete. Andrew and I took turns going down. Steve watched and refined the track, trying to work out some of the engineering flaws after each run. Especially the turn that led to my topsy-turvy crash and one side of my face being covered in ice-burn scratches. Once snow was packed down enough to hold Steve’s weight, he took his turn flying down the hill. We sat in the warm sun. We shared a snack. We played in the snow. God gave a gift to enjoy before grey skies and snow returned.