We walk along the beach against a whipping wind that coils my hair around my face, twisting against the restraints of my hood until it flies free in the fray.
A relentless 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 clouds.
Cold bites at gloved hands as we watch a crimson lighthouse emerge from the gray, a monolith rising solid against the lake's tempestuous fury.
And I feel the lake. Her nature heaving, gyrating, releasing, reclaiming everything she is, leaving all her heaviness in the sand.
March 23, 2023
Laurel
