There’s nothing more beautiful to me than a gleaming white sheet of ice waiting for me to bear my soul. It’s like a mirror awaiting my inner reflection. I stand at the gates and feel the fluttering of butterflies in my tummy as I contemplate what shall be revealed once I step onto my canvas; my skates the brush, my emotions the paint. The world is left behind as the colours carve through the crisp ice. As I move, my exposed flesh is caressed by a gentle breeze. I smile. It feels like comforting arms keeping me safe. The smooth crackling sound of carving ice is music to my ears. It sings a soothing tune. I close my eyes and absorb it all in. There is an oddly comforting, familiar subtle scent of ammonia. I sigh happily and begin my story. All those feelings which elude words are defined as I walk through my secret garden. With the tilt of my head, a subtle move of the hips and graceful arms I feel a sense of peace like never before. I couldn’t be more vulnerable if I were standing there naked for all to see. The music plays a melodic rhythm to which I move, leaving intertwining scratches on the awaiting ice. As the music fades I smile mischievously, knowing that the secret revealed is between me and this present moment. Much was said, but no words were uttered. Just the way I like it.
