Per­i­he­lion marked a piv­otal moment in the sto­ry, where the char­ac­ters grap­pled with pro­found per­son­al loss while seek­ing new hori­zons. Sol, dev­as­tat­ed by the recent death of Papa Griff, found her­self emo­tion­al­ly shak­en but chose to con­ceal her sor­row from oth­ers. Her grief was chan­neled into a vehe­ment hatred of the lake, the very body of water that had claimed the lives of her two uncles and now, trag­i­cal­ly, Griff. This intense ani­mos­i­ty became a sym­bol of the unre­solved grief that haunt­ed her, mak­ing the lake feel like an unyield­ing ene­my. In con­trast, Girard, Sol’s com­pan­ion, mourned in silence, not voic­ing his sor­row but clear­ly affect­ed by the loss in his own way. Mean­while, Eve­lyn, who was also strug­gling with the weight of grief, took refuge in the kitchen, per­haps try­ing to dis­tance her­self from the emo­tion­al storm that sur­round­ed them. An hour lat­er, the group ven­tured into the north­ern for­est, car­ry­ing with them a pic­nic bas­ket. They stum­bled upon a peace­ful clear­ing sur­round­ed by tall, fra­grant cedars, a calm sanc­tu­ary that pro­vid­ed a moment of solace. In the cen­ter of this tran­quil place, they dis­cov­ered stone mark­ers that resem­bled obelisks, each one stand­ing as a silent trib­ute to the lost mem­bers of their com­mu­ni­ty. Eve­lyn explained that the land had been set aside as a bur­ial site by a local landown­er, who had wished to hon­or the unclaimed body of her late hus­band by bury­ing him here, away from any for­mal ceme­tery.

Though Sol was stead­fast in her hatred for the lake, the group opt­ed to pic­nic beneath the shade of the cedars, hop­ing that the peace­ful sur­round­ings would pro­vide some form of emo­tion­al respite. The nar­ra­tor, how­ev­er, was drawn to a dif­fer­ent kind of jour­ney. Feel­ing a deep pull toward the unknown, he chose to sail to the Slate Islands dur­ing per­i­he­lion, the time when the Tashi comet would make its spec­tac­u­lar appear­ance. While Jolie was host­ing a vibrant local fes­ti­val filled with music and fes­tiv­i­ties, the nar­ra­tor longed for some­thing more. He believed that the jour­ney out to sea would offer him the oppor­tu­ni­ty to encounter some­thing mean­ing­ful, some­thing that went beyond the tem­po­rary plea­sures of a fes­ti­val. Eve­lyn and Girard, ever sup­port­ive, pro­vid­ed him with sup­plies from their exten­sive library, equip­ping him for the jour­ney. Upon reach­ing the Slate Islands, he was greet­ed by wildlife that evoked cher­ished mem­o­ries, spark­ing feel­ings of nos­tal­gia for a time when life felt sim­pler and more care­free. As night fell, how­ev­er, the clouds obscured the comet, and the nar­ra­tor found him­self caught in the still­ness of the island. Rather than engag­ing in his usu­al activ­i­ties of read­ing or mak­ing music, he decid­ed to sim­ply embrace the qui­et and enjoy the ambiance of the island. The peace­ful soli­tude of the night pro­vid­ed a sense of calm, and the absence of the comet did lit­tle to detract from the beau­ty of the moment.

The fol­low­ing day, the nar­ra­tor ven­tured out to explore the beach, notic­ing wildlife tracks scat­tered across the sand, yet the island itself seemed desert­ed. A storm began to roll in, bring­ing heavy rain­fall and a deep sense of iso­la­tion. As the rain inten­si­fied, the nar­ra­tor retreat­ed into the shel­ter of his small quar­ters, resigned to a qui­et evening indoors. He made a sim­ple stew and enjoyed the last jar of pre­serves from his sup­plies, savor­ing the sim­plic­i­ty of the meal. As he set­tled down to rest, he was swept away into a dream­like vision of his friends, their faces chang­ing with the pas­sage of time, show­ing them a decade into the future. This vision stirred both nos­tal­gia and hope with­in him, awak­en­ing a desire for the con­nec­tions he once had and the future that lay ahead. The storm con­tin­ued through the night, but by dawn, the rain ceased, leav­ing behind a sense of renew­al and a desire to return home. As he made his way back toward Jolie, he learned of the changes that had tak­en place in the com­mu­ni­ty. The arrival of Rachel, a new bassist, brought a fresh ener­gy to the local music scene. Her unique sound filled the air with a sense of melan­choly and won­der, and the nar­ra­tor found him­self cap­ti­vat­ed by her per­for­mance. This new vibran­cy stood in stark con­trast to his own sim­pler approach to music, and it sparked a new appre­ci­a­tion for the beau­ty of change and growth. As the Tashi comet reap­peared over­head, the nar­ra­tor made his way toward the live­ly gath­er­ing at Jolie, reflect­ing on how often he had over­looked the beau­ty that sur­round­ed him. The events of the past few days had offered him new insights into life, loss, and the unrec­og­nized moments of beau­ty that could trans­form even the sim­plest of jour­neys.