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So what do I need, I wonder, for spiritual sustenance? If these fish don’t need water, maybe I don’t need what I thought, either. What habitat(s) do I swim away from and toward? Walking away from the metal sculpture toward some trees and a path, I see a sign without arrows that rests between two pines and reads, “Brenke Fish Ladder.” I still don’t see a ladder, but I see a little path covered in ice that leads to a lookout where fallen branches are iced into the path, curling and crossing like tea leaves begging for me to interpret them.

INTERPRETATION OF THE ICY FALLEN BRANCHES: There’s an infinity sign, a bowl with wide sides, or is it the top of a martini glass?, letters written backwards, by a child, by someone confused or strange, by the devil?, and a magic lantern. It means, sit with the power of infinity and have a drink. Do not stare too long at the devil’s lettering, for one might start to see meaning where there is none.