Image courtesy of Robert Falcetti, edited by Alex Werner ‘26
There’s a special kind of excitement that comes with finding out the pond is finally frozen over. It’s a moment that feels like winter’s official arrival—a quiet signal from nature that it’s time to lace up the skates, grab a stick, and head outside for some pure, unfiltered joy.
It usually starts with a curious glance toward the water, the kind you’ve been sneaking for weeks. At first, the pond was a slushy mix of water and thin ice—and as someone who’s fallen through a piece of not-yet-ready ice while pond skating, it’s better to give the makeshift rink plenty of time to properly freeze over. But after a few frigid nights full of these polar vortex temperatures, the surface starts to change.
The moment you notice it’s frozen, something stirs inside you. Maybe you see the thin layer of ice from your dorm window or catch it glistening under the streetlights on your walk back from the library. And then the email comes in: Potter’s Pond is open!
The word spreads quickly around campus. Only four year seniors will remember the last time Potter’s became an epicenter for laughter and cold limbs. So, by the time the final bell rings, the pond is alive with activity. Students arrive with skates over their shoulders, hockey sticks in hand. Makeshift goals are placed on either end, and a game of pond hockey breaks out in the middle of campus—a spontaneous, joyful escape from the everyday pressures of Taft life. The best part? That first skate. Blades carving into ice untouched by snowplows or Zambonis, leaving long, satisfying streaks across the glassy surface. The air is crisp, cheeks flush from the cold, and laughter echoes in the quiet winter landscape.
The pond becomes a gathering place, a hub of winter activity. Unlike the structured environment of a rink, pond hockey takes players back to the roots of hockey itself, where the game is about creativity and joy. There are no boards, no referees, and no whistles. There’s just the sounds of blades cutting through ice, pucks dancing across the frozen surface, and the occasional shout of “goal!” It’s a place where beginners and seasoned players share the ice, where every play feels like a highlight, and where happiness takes center stage.
Potter’s Pond is more than just a frozen stretch of water; it’s a symbol of the winter season and a reminder of the timeless traditions that make the Taft campus feel like home. The first freeze marks the start of something special—a season of skates, laughter, and memories that will last long after the ice melts in the spring.