Abuse is sometimes cunning,like a mischievous fox whoby morning leaves you wondering just where it isyou left your right shoe.Or glove. Or the logical side of your brain. Abuse is also quiet,like the great Yukon grizzly whosleeps away the coldest months,tucked somewhere no one would suspect butusually,far too close for comfort. If only we knew. … More THE SUMMER I MISSED THE WILDFLOWERS
It makes sense here. The waters are high from the precipitous summer; the rocks and pebbles shine brighter, constantly polished beneath the surface. Clear as far as one can see and still as my own heart becomes when this Autumn morning sun gently bathes my sorrowful face. But it is no day for troubling oneself … More It Makes Sense Here
As Whitehorse greets Winter, a familiar friend (and foe), the temperatures have been in steady decline. Having only spent two of the [more pleasant of the] four seasons in this dry cabin, just when I think I’ve got the hang of something, Nature swiftly descends, reminding me that I have no idea what I’m doing. … More -30 Sunrise, Fish Lake Peak
Raindrops like slow motion, dripping into Watson River. Ripples dissolving; all together becoming waves folding over the sandy shore like sleepy morning smiles, over and over. May these nuances of nature keep me tender for all of my days.
I know that I will find a way to adapt–whether that turns out to be thriving in this lifestyle, or not being able to, I won’t know until I try. … More Dry Cabin Journey No.1
On the south facing slope dry, warm dust of clay cliffs.Fuzzy crocuses.Some sleepy, some stretchinghigh, to the sun lit sky.Blades of grass,pushing green,growing.Bright leaves, slowly unfolding like arms, like art,swirling vein patterns,demanding nothing, but gaining all of myattention. Walk slow,through these forests.Stop, often.Bend to touch.Feel the moss, the lichens,No longer brittle but, still firm, still … More Old Pines
I am home inthese curves; intoxicated.tongue tied. My eyes follow their arching bodies up and up ,their gorgeous frames making my heart raceuntil I reach the tops, only to plunge downward , over and over until my eyeswet from all the wonder. These mountains.
The brilliant violet crocuses dotted the mountain side, their petals open like eager arms deep-stretching after this long, cold Whitehorse winter. Their yellow insides as bright as the sun itself. Spring, I thought, is finally here. Goddess in hell, was I wrong… … More The Tors, At the Mercy of the Mountains
His rough and toughness was what attracted me to him. I needed a strong dog that could handle life on trails, in tents and in the mountains.
So I did not expect what would come next. In fact, I feel awful about it. Having done a 4 hour, 13km climb to the Ice Cave in Kluane two weeks ago where his energy and stamina seemed unfaltering, I figured a 7km climb’n’camp would be no problem! … More Expectation Vs. Reality, the Camping with Dogs Edition