The places that are eerie by the night have a rare beauty about them in the day, a quiet confidence as they foreground their brokenness for all to see. The day R and I spotted Pilerne Lake, I may have taken fewer breaths. It was so vast, so quiet, and so hauntingly beautiful, a phrase certainly coined in honor of a place like this. It was green as far as the eye could see. The sun was eager to set, and a dull sky enveloped it from all sides. A large board at the entrance of the lake labeled it a birding site, but no birdcall fell on our ears. The next few times we went, I would spot a total of five egrets, a few cows, a flycatcher, a dragonfly, and broken beer bottles. We visited it often in the evenings when the town was winding down, the shops were shutting, and the egg-bun seller on the bicycle was going home with a few buns unsold. At this time, Pilerne Lake looked like a ghost. As if covering it was not green marsh but a thick shadow of its past, penetrating which would require a reversal of time.
What I learnt from haunted places about love
What I learnt from haunted places about love
What I learnt from haunted places about love
The places that are eerie by the night have a rare beauty about them in the day, a quiet confidence as they foreground their brokenness for all to see. The day R and I spotted Pilerne Lake, I may have taken fewer breaths. It was so vast, so quiet, and so hauntingly beautiful, a phrase certainly coined in honor of a place like this. It was green as far as the eye could see. The sun was eager to set, and a dull sky enveloped it from all sides. A large board at the entrance of the lake labeled it a birding site, but no birdcall fell on our ears. The next few times we went, I would spot a total of five egrets, a few cows, a flycatcher, a dragonfly, and broken beer bottles. We visited it often in the evenings when the town was winding down, the shops were shutting, and the egg-bun seller on the bicycle was going home with a few buns unsold. At this time, Pilerne Lake looked like a ghost. As if covering it was not green marsh but a thick shadow of its past, penetrating which would require a reversal of time.