Elk Lake Revisited.

Elk Lake draws me back with its familiar loop, each step pressing into a trail shaped by years of repetition. The hush of the morning is broken only by distant oars slicing water and the slow wingbeat of gulls overhead. Damp cedar and alder lean close, their roots and shadows reminding me where I’ve stumbled before. Near Hamsterly Beach, swans drift like ghosts through fog, watching me pass with timeless detachment. The lake doesn’t speak, but its silence tells me I still belong.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-running-jackal--500980/support.