Lark’s Echo Dare — Every evening at Sprucehook Lake, Lark set herself one tiny dare before cocoa: make the biggest echo with the smallest sound. Read the full story →
Every evening at Sprucehook Lake, Lark set herself one tiny dare before cocoa: make the biggest echo with the smallest sound. She had tried a pinecone plink, a zipper zip, and one heroic spoon tap on her enamel mug. The mountains usually sent back a polite little tink. Until one day, as the sun slipped behind the peaks, her mug tap made the empty canoe go bong.
Because of that, Lark tapped again. Bong-bong! The canoe wobbled in the shallows, bumping a half-floating paddle that slapped the water with a ridiculous splat. Because of that, a family on the dock clapped the rhythm, three squirrels chattered from the spruce, and someone across the lake answered with a pan lid. Lark laughed so hard her cocoa smelled smoky and sweet in her nose.
Finally, she stood on a log and called, “One more for the mountain!” Mug, canoe, paddle, dock, pan lid—clang, bong, splat, stomp, shimmer—until the whole lake seemed to grin in orange light. Her tiny dare had become too joyful to keep. Next time you spot that canoe nosing the shore, imagine the smallest sound waiting to wake the biggest echo.
