As the sun sets on the Lake of Two Mountains,
a kingfisher named Prometheus
swoops down to steal fire from the sunfish.
Hard to believe that we walked on this water,
like gods, just a few months ago, Tristan,
when all of this was nothing
but a blinding white wasteland,
and we could scarcely remember what planet we were on.
What a magical, terrifying place this is: a land,
that can’t seem to decide whether it wants to be
the Garden of Eden or the Surface of the Moon.
—John Faithful Hamer, Blue Notes (2017)