Place record · #584
The path from the porch descends through deep snow toward the lake, marked every dozen paces by slender poles tied with faded red cloth. In the open valley the wind becomes more noticeable, pushing loose powder in thin ribbons across the crust. At the shore, the ice begins beneath a shelf of snow and extends pale and matte toward the far bank. Fine cracks branch beneath the surface like dark threads trapped in milk glass. The line of open water seen from the house lies far across the lake, steaming faintly beneath the falling snow. A narrow wooden dock projects twenty paces onto the ice before ending at a small roofed shelter. Beneath its bench are several pairs of old skates in different sizes and a long pole with a metal hook. A hand-painted board reads CHECK THE ICE YOURSELF. THE LAKE HAS NO OPINION ABOUT YOUR CONFIDENCE. Footprints to the right follow the shoreline only a short distance before blowing away among spruce roots. The dark stakes ahead continue over ice whose safety the shelter explicitly refuses to guarantee; they are not an established route. To the left, however, the shore curves beneath a steep white slope toward several dark openings between boulders. That is the one maintained way onward. Something moves once in the open water at the far side. The distance is too great to tell whether it was an animal, current, or falling snow playing tricks with scale.
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Reader catalogue
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