200906 | Young minds, old patterns, and the function of lakes
“Once we get out,” says the young girl to her mother, “we’ll be back.”
Bright, green orbs are scattered on the ravine floor. The sky is red, the horizon redder still. Wide-eyed squirrels burrow and stash. The creek has slowed, but still, it runs. It finds its way, the old way, carved over time. It flows into the dark beneath the streets, empties into sewers. It finds the lake.
Above: Robert Houle, ‘Muhnedobe uhyahyuk (Where the gods are present) (Thomas),’…