,.~:%&#£##                                          ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,.:&&£#                                          #£&&:.,,,,
,,,,~~%%&#                                          #&%%~~,,,,
,,,~~%&#££                                          ££#&%~~,,,
,,,,.~:&##                                          ##&:~.,,,,
,,,,,.~%&#               winds esker                #&%~.,,,,,
,.~:%&#£## ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ##£#&%:~.,
,,...:%&&£                                          £&&%:...,,
,.~:%&#£## there was this place  that for two years ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## i  couldn't go  to.  regardless how much ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&###£ discussed with others,  or  pointed  out £###&%:~.,
,,,,~%&&#£ on maps,  i could  not think of  it when £#&&%~,,,,
,.~:%&#£££ alone. i would  often  travel  past  the £££#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#### fork, where a right  turn  would  surely ####&%:~.,
,,,,,,~:&£ take me there, but  even then, something £&:~,,,,,,
,.:%&#£###               kept me away.              ###£#&%:.,
,.~:%&#£##                                          ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%#£### when  i  finally  got there, after  some ###£#%:~.,
,.~:%&#£##     heavy subconscious battle i must     ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## assume,   the  place  was   surreal.  an ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#### esker,  like a needle-thin  rift out  in ####&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## the   lake,  but  ten  meters  high  and ##£#&%:~.,
,,,.~:&&£# adorned in  birch, willow, bracken,  and #£&&:~.,,,
,.~:%&#£##               blueberries.               ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£##                                          ##£#&%:~.,
,....~%%&# walking  atop  that  spine,  i  came  to #&%%~....,
,,,.~%%%%# notice  the view to either  side.  there #%%%%~.,,,
,,,,,.~:&# should  be  shores,  of  course,  but  i #&:~.,,,,,
,.~:%&#£## didn't  recognize them.  first off, they ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,,,~:&£ were  much too close, as the lake should £&:~,,,,,,
,.~:%&#### stretch  for  a hundred  meters  more on ####&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## both  sides.  but  now i  felt  i  could ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## almost reach  out and  touch  them.  and ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:::%&#£ then, when i  realized which shores they £#&%:::~.,
,..~~~~%&#           were, i had to stop.           #&%~~~~..,
,.~:%&&#£#                                          #£#&&%:~.,
,,,,.~::&£ they were of the right  lake.  but  this £&::~.,,,,
,,,,,.:%##      lake is large, fractured, and       ##%:.,,,,,
,,,,,~~~%# bipartite. like a pair  of  lungs carved #%~~~,,,,,
,.~:%&#£## into the granite,  and with no less than ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£##   five communities anchored at various   ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,,.:%%#      points. and so, studying these      #%%:.,,,,,
,,,,,,~%#£    impossibly close shores, i slowly     £#%~,,,,,,
,.~:%&#£## understood  them as belonging many miles ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:::%&#£                   away.                  £#&%:::~.,
,.~:%&#£##                                          ##£#&%:~.,
,,,..~%##£ i  examined   the  ridge,  the  treeline £##%~..,,,
,.~:%&#£## above. was this what  you  saw opposite, ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## from  those  other  shores?  i  couldn't ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£##                remember.                 ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:::%###                                          ###%:::~.,
,.~:%&£### carrying forward,  on the  very  tip  of ###£&%:~.,
,.~:%&#££# the esker,  i  found  the ruins  of some #££#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£##    old building. there were overgrown    ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## marble staircases, stone floors beneath  ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## the  moss,  and strange  slabs  inserted ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,..:&&# into  the slope  like  dams  against the #&&:..,,,,
,.~:%%%&££              ground itself.              ££&%%%:~.,
,.~:%&#£##                                          ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£££ sitting there,  i could  see  across the £££#&%:~.,
,,,,,.:&## narrowed lake my entire  path to where i ##&:.,,,,,
,.~:%&#£## sat:  from  the  stairwell of  my house, ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## through the  old  woods  behind the tile ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,,.~%&#      factory, the bridge over route      #&%~.,,,,,
,,,,,,.~%# twenty three  and then  back  under  it, #%~.,,,,,,
,,,,.::%## through   the  fancy  villas,  over  the ##%::.,,,,
,..~:%&&£# fields, and  then that right turn at the #£&&%:~..,
,.~:%&#£##                  fork.                   ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,.~%###                                          ###%~.,,,,
,.~:%&##£# and then the  stairs  up  on the  ridge. #£##&%:~.,
,....~%#£# thinking back,  this  was  probably  it. #£#%~....,
,.~:%&#£## hidden in  a grove,  there  were  stairs ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## much like  the ones i  currently sat on, ##£#&%:~.,
,,,.~%%%## old  and  worn down,  that lead  you  up ##%%%~.,,,
,,,,.:%#£# onto the esker. the point  of entry. had #£#%:.,,,,
,,,,,~%%&# i insted opted to  walk the path at  its #&%%~,,,,,
,.~:::&&££ foot,  i'm sure  my  experience would've ££&&:::~.,
,.~:%&#£##          been different indeed.          ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£##                                          ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,.~:%%# ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ #%%:~.,,,,
,.~:%&£###                                          ###£&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£## on   the  lake,  there  were  people  in ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,,~::&# boats. i wondered, could  they  even see #&::~,,,,,
,.~:%&#£## me? if i  shouted, would  they  turn  to ##£#&%:~.,
,,,,,.:&#£          stare right through me?         £#&:.,,,,,
,.~:%&#£££                                          £££#&%:~.,
,,,,,.:%##                                          ##%:.,,,,,
,.~:%&#£##                                          ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&#£##                                          ##£#&%:~.,
,.~:%&&&££                                          ££&&&%:~.,