Marshall Lake

Silence of another snowy slow-going evening.

Fog pouring off the lake, slinking away,

Staying lower than my knees,

Revealing a perfectly flat mirror of water.

Reflecting a stillness onto the steep mountain walls surrounding it.

As a gray tint floods this isolated lake.

Dark clouds gather overhead.

Without warning,

Without sound,

Larger snowflakes fall,

Slowly drifting down from the heavens.

Their movement stolen from them as they touch the glassy surface of Marshall Lake.

Like the hope of filling my tag today.

Everything still, waiting out the storm.

Waiting for sunlight and warm morning breezes.

But for now the bone chilling cold keeps everything frozen.

Marshall Lake stays as still as the elk who leave tracks on its shore.