EXHIBIT 2024-004: "FROZEN LAKE"
Dear Esteemed Guests,
A warm welcome to our latest Exhibit, the Frozen Lake, drawn from the owner’s visit to a northerly vale in the midst of winter.
As you can see, it pools in a valley deep within a mountain range, forested by evergreen pine and fir trees. The trek to reach the Lake is fraught with the difficulty and dangers presented by the steep terrain, hungry bears, wolves, and inclement weather conditions — quite different, I am told, to the pleasant recreational hikes enjoyed by many during the summer months.
Why, then, would one undertake to visit the Lake at such a perilous point in the year? Some are attracted to the scene of the lake itself: frozen to a depth of up to 0.5m (around 2 feet, for the old-fashioned amongst us), one can witness a multitude of geometric, chevron patterns formed across the ice in a pleasing lattice, surrounded by the quietness of snow, and sheltered from the wind by the mountains rising proudly all around.
Others come to enjoy the silence, which is not absolute: on occasion, cracks in the ice make a natural song. And during one particular month of the year, so too can be heard the gentle chanting of pilgrims.
The nature of the pilgrimage — open to any who wish to undertake it — is as follows. The mountain trail joins at the southwestern edge of the Lake, as indicated by this “whopping great arrow” (owner’s words). A journey on foot then commences clockwise around the lake, requiring a total of four days, owing to the long night hours. (There are but three clear hours of daylight here during this point of the season.) Rest stops are situated along the way.
The first and easiest portion of the journey stops at Mead Hall: a great A-frame construction of wood and tanned hides. The accommodation within is simple and communal, with rows of stacked bunks lining the walls. A bench table runs most of the length of the interior, and a roaring fire is kept burning in the great stone hearth. All pilgrims are expected to supply dry wood for the fire, and at least one good meal for the next pilgrim. Particularly enthusiastic individuals have been known to supply as much as a whole butchered deer, or a sack of barley hefted with them up the mountain!
By far the most common offerings, though, are such as are easily carried: dry-cured sausages and hams, wedges of hard cheese, a bag of walnuts, or suchlike. Mead Hall, as the name suggests, is a place of merriment and celebration of the journey to come, a reunion of old friends, and a meeting place of new kindred spirits.
On, then, to the second stop: the Crannog Sweat Lodge. These are large, circular structures built of logs, standing on stilts over the water. And despite the deep cold, water it is, as the heat of the lodges is sufficient to keep the immediate vicinity melted. The Crannogs are accessed by long walkways from the shore, from which most pilgrims will fish for their night’s meal. Inside, the Crannogs are infused with the smells of grilling fish, human sweat, and heavy with the smoke of green pine needles being burnt for good luck.
For the next day’s journey is the most arduous of all: here, the forest is so dense that fleeing an attacker of any kind becomes near impossible. And attackers there are: not only the wild and hungry beasts of the forest, but wily thieves intent on acquiring such valuables as may be carried. Not every pilgrim will survive this portion of the journey. Some fall foul of attackers, yes; but many more lose their way amongst the trees, and succumb to exposure. (I did enquire of the owner how one could possibly become lost with the Lake’s edge to follow on one’s right — and was reproachfully informed that it is guarded here by bandits for precisely this reason.)
Those who arrive safely at Wizer Hall, then, are generally of sombre mood. Silence is generally observed, most pilgrims withdrawn into solitary contemplation. A colourful, painted token is collected here as proof of right of passage for their final challenge: the Walk of Ice.
It is exactly as it sounds: venturing out across the frozen Lake to the portion of land locked in its centre. Any footwear is permitted, including skates; but the most pious endure the distance barefoot.
Rising tall from the small isle is a stone-built chimney. A low fire is kept burning for the duration of the month, and to this the pilgrims offer their prayers, written on parchment before setting off. The burning is a quiet affair, sometimes accompanied by the songs of the ice (or the Mead Hall, when the wind blows strongly from the northwest). A gentle conclusion to the trial endured — some even say a blessing is conferred by its completion.
Once this is done, pilgrims then cross the ice once more to return to the trail’s starting point, where some will stop to offer words of encouragement for those just beginning their journey.
I hope you have enjoyed the Exhibit. In the spirit of the theme, I have arranged for hot cocoa to be served when we retire to the tea room, where we might converse should you be so inclined. As always, there is a sign up list available should you wish to be notified of future Exhibits.
Thank you for your attention,
The Butler.