The Lake Remembers

The wolf greedily lapped at the water that splashed softly against the shore of the lake. Its black grey speckled hide almost made it invisible amongst the small pebbles covering the space between the lake and the nearby woods. The creature stopped drinking, twisting its ears to discern the direction of a sound. Sound carried far in the cold misty morning air.

A figure on two legs with dark skin, dark hair running down to his shoulder, and an overcoat roughly stitched together of animal hide stepped out of the trees. He did not try to conceal himself anymore. The wolf glanced sceptically at the man, who was slowly getting closer. It did not know that the thing the man carried was called a spear. Its instincts took care of evaluating the situation. Stones and water splashed as it fled along the shore back to the safety of the wood. The man howled a guttural cry of disappointment behind.

The lake remembers.

The woman yelped. The slight tug on the thin woven line had startled her. She had been dozing off in the log boat carved from a fallen oak tree. Quickly she hauled the line. A sizeable carp had swallowed the bait and started splashing wild as it broke the surface, trying to free itself from the crude iron hook which lodged deep in its jaw.

The woman hit the fish with a wooden stick. The lake became quiet again as she stored the fish in a net in the boat’s hollowed bow. Enough for today, she decided. Then she started rowing back to the shore.

The lake remembers.

Leather caligae crunching on the pebbles, the centurion guided his horse to the shore. The sun was getting low in the west, but the air was still warm. Not as warm as in his home in Samnium, though. It had been two years since he had to join the army, leaving the farm in the hands of his wife and his oldest son Cassius. In a silent prayer, he asked his forefathers to protect them until his return.

He knelt at the shore, washed his face then filled a hand with the clean water. The cool liquid was balm for his dusty lips and felt like heaven in his dry throat.

“Come now, dear Elpis. We must be on our way. It’s four more days to Castra Regina. Then we both can rest a little” he sighed and caressed his steed’s forehead. The centurion took the reigns and led Elpis back to the road. A last yearning glance to the south before he mounted and pressed his knee into the horse’s left shoulder.

The lake remembers.

The king stepped into the water. His evening robe started to float around him. Why didn’t they understand? An eagle cried. He looked up but could only see the moon. Do eagles fly in the night? “I wish I could fly.”, he thought and took another step.

The lake remembers.

I dove into the water to cool myself. It was the beginning of August, and summer had been hot. Too hot. I ignored the lingering thoughts about a world in peril and took a few strokes toward the western shore before I turned around again. I could see your smile as you waved at me from our blanket on the beachfront.

The lake remembers.