The building's reflection is working overtime.

The water glimmered as if it had swallowed a piece of the sun. I stood at the edge of the lake, watching the golden streak stretch toward me like an invitation I wasn’t sure how to answer. Across the rippling surface, a modest building caught the last light of the day. Its clean lines and muted colors seemed at odds with the wild greenery behind it. A boat idled quietly nearby, tethered but restless, as if it too was waiting for night to fully descend. The air carried a faint scent of salt and damp wood—a reminder that this place belonged more to water than to land.