.:-^%*§§##                                          ##§§*%^-:.
.:-^%*§#@#                                          #@#§*%^-:.
.....::-%§                                          §%-::.....
.:-^^^%§§#                                          #§§%^^^-:.
.:-^^^%%§@                                          @§%%^^^-:.
.:-^%*§#@#                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?          @@#§*%^-:.
.:-^%*§#@#                                          #@#§*%^-:.
.:-^%*#@##                                          ##@#*%^-:.
......--%§                                          §%--......
.:-^%**§##                                          ##§**%^-:.
.:-^%*§@##                                          ##@§*%^-:.