Signs of winter

The early signs of winter feel late, but I am happy. The flora is soft still, the berries are hanging on, and the ground is entirely snowless, but not frostless. Ice forms overnight but melts away during the day. Iced windows on cars is an every night occurrence now, and each time I freeze my fingers for one more last car wash of the year, I mentally prepare for it to be my last.

I hate to have a dirty car. I really, really don’t love it.

But this was far too beautiful of a day to worry about how dirty the back of my car would be hours later, and the long term forecast still had +6s and +7s in it, so my hose would not be frozen solid yet.
I didn’t know where I wanted to go, I didn’t have any place in mind. Driving just clears my mind.

"October sunshine is not a cheap sunshine."

The sun is all day low in the sky now. The warmth of the sunlight both in temperature and colour is the perfect feeling. It is a strong contrast to the cool air, the cold water, how nature has shed so much leaving just bare branches. October sunshine is not a cheap sunshine. It’s the kind you feel in your bones and in your soul, the kind that makes the forest almost call out in such overwhelming beauty and stillness.

Maybe nothing felt nicer than just sitting out here, sipping hot coffee, occasionally feeling a cloud of mist rush up off the water.

The light changed so slowly and subtly. When the sun did fall behind the trees, there became this almost eerie stillness and immediate chill in the air. The wind died, the river upstream became totally still on the surface and the colours all around so muted.

The drive home was peaceful and interrupted more than once for some moments of bliss with the sunset.

Dinner didn’t take long tonight. It was a leftovers night of course. I took my forever evening tea with me and drove again for the open sky, the water which gently laps at the shore and after some time, the aurora dancing furiously right above.

This was a long, long day, but with almost all of it in the company of warm drinks and nature. This is the most beautiful life, one I really long for in the most consistent way.

The Iceland effect

I can of course still hear his Icelandic accent while I sat against a heater at the window, looking outside eating breakfast…

“If you don’t like the weather, you can just wait ten minutes.”

I would not say it is often that here we have this ‘four seasons in one day’ type of weather, but this may be as close as I have seen in some time.

I always have loved interesting weather, and as satisfying as 30° on a beach of pure blue skies is, that is not everyday for the rest of my life.

One of the things I do love about living relatively far north is the extreme changes in climate and environment. The difference of 15 sunlight hours between the winter and summer solstice thrills me just as suffering through a 27° summer afternoon in a kayak or a walk through a forest covered in hoar frost at -35° does in the winter.

Inside of those seasons here, consistency still reigns. And that’s why whether it is in Iceland, or here, that to experience some icy patches over puddles, brutal winds, warm sunshine on my face, and a close call with a downpour all in a few hours feels like such a perfect miracle of nature. What beauty and power.

It’s so easy when I go back to British Columbia to visit, to be in the lush, old growth rainforests there and feel this almost condemnation of the forests around Yellowknife for their stunted growth, lack of vibrant greenery or heavily green forest floors.

The trees here just take a hundred years to grow and a hundred years to die

It’s like I just forget about all the beauty the reindeer lichen and mosses on the forest floor here hold, the majestic quality of the tall grasses blowing in the winds, the incredible colours even in the middle of summer before autumn really takes hold. It is all incredible. It’s just very different. Anywhere you step in nature, it is over some of the oldest exposed rock anywhere on this planet - a few billion years.

How beautiful to consider all what this rock has seen, or the reindeer lichen which is barely the size of your hand and has been growing for hundreds of years, the stories it all could tell, everything it has experienced. If you really think about that. How unbelievably special.

Skaftafellsjökull, Iceland

All of these massive boulders, how they are placed and balancing on one another, how every crevice has formed, all by the ice when this was glacial carved. Imagine to see glaciers covering this place, like we still see, for now, in Iceland. It seems so surreal, and something I am appreciating so much more than I ever have before.

Getting back to nature

It had barely been half a week since I was last out on this trail. I had expected many of the trees now had their leaves on the forest floor. In the days which had passed, we had a lot of wind, and sometimes even just a few still days this far north can create a dramatic change in how nature is looking during the fall.

But I just wanted to get back into the heart of nature like this so badly.

My night before had been a very, very late one out with the aurora, and I could have slept all day. But I awoke on just a couple hours of sleep feeling so much energy to go back out into nature… to feel the cool air, smell the sweet forest, hear the rushing water and find a certain stillness. Perhaps a lot of this will look very familar for you, but I couldn’t help but to go back so soon. It felt like the perfect place for the day. There are many snowy, darker days for sleeping coming soon.

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“I would just want to hang out there all day and cleanse my soul.”

These beautiful words came from a close friend after I described my previous day out here, and right in the moment of reading them, I just knew I had to come back and soak up every moment that I could.

Tunnel vision

I had become, you could say obsessed, with wishing I could watch every leaf fall from it’s branch, or feel every cool breeze on my face, find every angle where the sun came through the trees to cast long, warm shadows. Truly I didn’t want to leave.

A forest full of berries & feeling grateful

It seems so cheesy to say, but I wish you can feel how peaceful it is to sit back against some of these boulders which have been here for billions of years, and be feeling the reindeer moss in your fingers. I think it’s impossible to know how amazing that can be until you are there, and when you really find this slow and conscious space.

"I think that eating berries every day during the winter can help to stay strong and healthy"

Sure it is great to have some wild berries for the winter, I am really excited for that. But to take these hours in the crisp autumn air, seeking out quiet marshes for these crowberries and cranberries.. I just love that too. I wish these days could continue forever.

From a forgetful moment

Some kilometres out from town, I had only then realized I forgot my berry picker. I had a momentary thought of if I should go back for it, but decided that no, it was alright and better just to continue on for the further out countryside and breathtaking colours as far as you could see.

I am sure I have never seen the countryside look so beautiful with colour before, ever. Not only was all the yellow still hanging from the birches, but reds and oranges like I haven’t seen here before also. After every corner, I couldn’t believe how it became more beautiful. Just kilometre after kilometre for all 46 of them.

Through the midafternoon, even sunshine broke this typical October cloud which we are experiencing in abundance these days. The air, while crisp, was completely devoid of any wind. Something so perfect for a slow coffee and snack out on a rock surrounded by flowing water.

What a great day in nature from just forgetting something so small right at the front door. The timing was unquestionably perfect.