Two years ago, in late January 2009, I was walking on Skilak Lake, from the shore towards Caribou Island. It was early afternoon but looked like evening, the sun low. I didn’t know how thick the ice was, or how safe to walk upon. The snow in drifts, like dunes of sand. No other human, and no bird or other animal or even wind. Just silence. The air so clear it seemed I should be able to touch things that were far away, the mountains above the lake.
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