Lake Baikal I
As the sun breaks over the far horizon the black night rapidly slips away behind us, chased across the frozen lake top by the new day. The clear ice appears as a polished surface lashed with lightning shaped cracks that splinter off in a cross hatch of white lines through the frozen lake on which we stand.
The small rocky Island juts through the now solid waters reaching above the horizon against the warm golden sunrise like a breaching whale, the mirror like surface of the lake reflecting it double back to us to enjoy.
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