Out here on Lake Erie, the world is remade by winter.
Waves that once moved with restless energy now lie frozen in place, sculpted into ridges, shards, and sprawling pieces of ice that stretch beyond the horizon. The wind has gone quiet, the lake still, and the only thing left in motion is the sky, drifting slowly above in as the last glow of day fades into night.
I waited in the -25°C cold for that moment when light and darkness meet, when the warmth of sunset gives way to the vastness of the cosmos. In that moment, the frozen surface began to shimmer. Every formation catching what little light remained, reflecting it back in fractured patterns across a landscape that felt less like Earth, and more like something discovered.
Standing alone among these frozen waves, it felt like stepping onto another world, where silence lingers, time slows, and Mother Nature quietly reshapes everything in its path. A fleeting moment on a desolate, shifting frontier of ice and stars.
