Our little pocket of the Goldstream Valley sits above the temperamental O’Connor Creek. Sometimes it is a trickle, sometimes a raging torrent that chews up culverts and blueberry bushes. In the winter, it’s a highway for wildlife: fox, hare and moose tracks intertwine. Depressions in the snow beneath low hanging trees are evidence of nighttime bowers for coyotes and wolves. Away from the creek, the forest transitions from spindly black spruce and austere tamaracks to birches and towering white spruces.
What an essay! Every word is perfectly weighted and calibered and with it you manage to make misery sound incredibly beautiful. These long nights and short days, frigid temperatures and temperamental creek seem to all have contributed to your strength. Feeling humbled
Lovely essay. When I’m going through a rough mental patch, I often soothe myself with daydreams about escaping to a tiny cabin somewhere north of Fairbanks to live out my solitary life hauling wood, cooking beans, and shoveling snow. The reality, of course, would be far from idyllic … and yet.
What an essay! Every word is perfectly weighted and calibered and with it you manage to make misery sound incredibly beautiful. These long nights and short days, frigid temperatures and temperamental creek seem to all have contributed to your strength. Feeling humbled
Lovely essay. When I’m going through a rough mental patch, I often soothe myself with daydreams about escaping to a tiny cabin somewhere north of Fairbanks to live out my solitary life hauling wood, cooking beans, and shoveling snow. The reality, of course, would be far from idyllic … and yet.