On a particularly frigid Sunday Jeany and I decided to visit Lake Michigan. The shore line presented a blasted landscape on which nothing seemed to live. The surf of the lake had been frozen in mid air, then broken into thousands of ice shards by the arctic winds. Out of this desolation came a Gray Ghost, an ice-dog who counted only the clouds and the current as his family and master. We tried to warm him with our kindness but he was inconsolable, barking and bearing his teeth as he retreated towards the water. Soon he had disappeared completely into an otherworldly haze where the land meets the glacial lake.
Desolation and the Snow Dog
On a particularly frigid Sunday Jeany and I decided to visit Lake Michigan. The shore line presented a blasted landscape on which nothing seemed to live. The surf of the lake had been frozen in mid air, then broken into thousands of ice shards by the arctic winds. Out of this desolation came a Gray Ghost, an ice-dog who counted only the clouds and the current as his family and master. We tried to warm him with our kindness but he was inconsolable, barking and bearing his teeth as he retreated towards the water. Soon he had disappeared completely into an otherworldly haze where the land meets the glacial lake.
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