Willowmere
The six of them moved into the old house in the winter, when the deep pool under the willows was sheened with ice and the bare branches sang across its surface in the night wind. Nate took the back room with the big gable window, and on nights he couldn’t sleep he looked out at the powdered sugar scattering of snow on the lawn and down to the brambles at the edge of the tree line. The ice on the water reflected moonlight like a mirror.
