...--†%%£¶                                          ¶£%%†--...
..--†%%£¶#                                          #¶£%%†--..
.--†%%£¶##                                          ##¶£%%†--.
..--†%%£¶#                                          #¶£%%†--..
...--†%%£¶                                          ¶£%%†--...
....--†%%£               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?         ¶£%%†--...
..--†%%£¶#                                          #¶£%%†--..
.--†%%£¶##                                          ##¶£%%†--.
..--†%%£¶#                                          #¶£%%†--..
...--†%%£¶                                          ¶£%%†--...
....--†%%£                                          £%%†--....