The first frost had settled over Hollow Creek, and the lake reflected a sharp, clear morning light. Emily walked along the frozen shoreline, boots crunching on the thin ice at the edge. The town was still waking; the streets smelled of damp wood and lingering smoke from chimneys.
Liam appeared beside her, hands in his pockets, scarf tucked under his coat.
“Cold enough to make you question your choices?”
“Not yet,” she said.
“You’ll see,” he warned.
“I’ll survive,” she replied.
Grace joined a step behind, camera in hand.
“You never stop,” she said.
“Neither does winter,” Emily answered.
“Or stubborn women,” Liam added.
“Necessary traits,” Emily said.
They paused at the old pier. The boards creaked underfoot, frozen and slick. Emily rested her hands on the railing, looking out over the water, still silver beneath the early sun.
“I can’t believe how fast time moves,” she said.
“Time is patient,” Liam said.
“But impatient when you need it,” she replied.
Noah ran up with a tripod and lens bag.
“Perfect light,” he said.
“I’ll trust you,” Emily said.
The three of them stood quietly, wind brushing their faces, carrying the scent of pine and wet earth. Ripples shimmered under the frost, catching the sunlight in patterns that looked almost like writing.
“You ready for today?” Grace asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Emily said.
“Then let’s make it count,” Liam said.
They walked slowly along the pier, the lake stretching wide and silent on either side. The frost glinted along the edges, a fragile border between land and water.
Emily paused, watching a leaf trapped in ice.
“Even frozen, it’s still part of the world,” she said.
“Just like us,” Liam said.
“Exactly,” she said.
A gull flew overhead, silent in the crisp air. Emily followed it with her eyes until it disappeared into the distance.
They turned and walked back toward town, the pier creaking softly under each step. The day stretched ahead, filled with work, petitions, and the unbroken thread of preservation they had begun to weave.
By afternoon, the frost had begun to melt along the edges of the lake, leaving fine streams of water that reflected the pale sun. Emily paused on the pier, hands on the railing, listening to the gentle drip from the boards.
Liam joined her silently.
“The ice won’t last,” he said.
“Neither will we,” she replied.
“Then we make the most of it,” he said.
Grace leaned on the railing a few steps away, camera in hand.
“This light… it shows everything,” she said.
“Even the things we miss,” Emily said.
“Yes, and the things we have yet to see,” Grace said.
Noah came up, holding the tripod.
“Ready for a few long exposures?” he asked.
“Always,” Emily said.
They spent the next hour moving slowly along the pier, capturing the lake, the light, the reflections of the street behind them. Every ripple, every frozen edge, every shadow of a tree in the distance became part of their record.
Emily sat at the edge, notebook open, sketching the shapes of the reflections, writing notes about the preservation efforts, and the people they had inspired.
“You’re documenting the night,” Liam said.
“Documenting memory,” Emily replied.
The wind rose slightly, stirring the surface of the water and rustling the pages of the notebook. Emily closed her eyes, letting the sounds and smells of the lake fill her awareness.
“Do you think they understand what we’re doing?” Grace asked.
“They might,” Emily said.
“Or they might just notice the results,” Liam said.
“And if they don’t notice?” Grace asked.
“Then we make them notice,” Emily said, rising to her feet.
The lake mirrored the sky, still silver, now touched with soft gold from the sun sinking lower. Emily turned to the others.
“Tomorrow we continue,” she said.
“Yes,” Liam said.
“Yes,” Grace echoed.
A single leaf drifted from a tree above, landing on the surface of the water. Emily watched it spin slowly, the motion of the world continuing, deliberate and quiet.
She smiled faintly, pulling her coat tighter around her. The lake, the pier, the frost, and the cold air were all part of a story they were still writing.
The three of them walked back along the pier, the silver reflection of the water stretching behind them, and the town waiting quietly for their next move.
Comments (0)
See all