We walk along the beach against a steady wind that whips my hair in coils around my face, twisting against the restraints of my hood until they fly free in the breeze.
A steady roil pushes the heavy glass of frozen waves until they smash and break, piling in fractured heaps along the beach.
Fragments of ice fringe the shoreline, a chaos of crystals refracting the rays of light brave enough to escape the caliginous gray.
Holding gloved hands, we gaze across the waves to a crimson lighthouse, a monolith standing solid on the breakwater.
And I feel the lake. Her nature heaving, gyrating, releasing, and reeling back everything she is and leaving all her heaviness in the sand.
March 23, 2023
Laurel
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