Tales of the beautiful everyday from the North
The magic valley revival
Thousands of kilometres away now, but the little magic valley in Yellowknife meant a lot to me. For years, it was a retreat in both daylight and under the stars. It was a quiet, cosy valley I could just hide away in. It reminded me of Norway, as much as Yellowknife could, and I think that was an important recharge for me.
"I think that was an important recharge for me."
On the last morning of showings for my then-home, and subsequently the day I sold it, I spent some hours there in this magical winter light. It’s still one of my best memories.
And then, more than half a year later, I stumble into my very own magic valley here. It was all the comfort, security, and nostalgia of Yellowknife, but Norway too, just even more special.
On this afternoon, I couldn’t stop watching in amazement of the shadows playing on the mountain sides. Chasing the light and the water up the valley just yielded more and more absolutely surreal beauty. Every moment needed another photograph. And how the light moved up to the peaks of the mountain ridges until it was all finally gone was just so beautiful. It was slow but still so fast.
Just so
Checking in on the auroral conditions a little later that night after dinner revealed far too perfect of an opportunity, despite being so exhausted, to stay home.
There was really just one choice of course, and it was to back track south once again to the magic valley. It was in so many ways just what I had been dreaming of for years. And now it gets to be my every day. That is magic.
Transitions
Waiting for the snow
Yesterday was the first day since I moved in that I didn’t see the mountains from my sofa, and today is the most beautiful they have ever looked.
Our first snow arrived in a true winter storm, and I was in love with every moment of that. It was like being wrapped up in every creature comfort again... Blustery winds, heavy snowfall, silence around the neighbourhood and such cosy winter clothing. The longer nights, late sunrises, and the intensity of blue hour when there is only snow everywhere have returned again after what felt like an eternity. My soul couldn’t be happier.
Everyone’s favourite few weeks
For the weeks and weeks before, I couldn’t spend enough time outside. The colours and crisp air but still warm sun pulled me out. Familiarity with the countryside felt less like a chore and more like a consequence. Entire mountainsides were covered in reds, oranges and yellows, and I constantly thought I had never been in a place more beautiful. I wondered passing other vehicles along the highways, “Do they know how beautiful this is? Are they seeing this too?”. I wanted to pull over every 100m and breathe heavy breaths at the beauty.
The Long Road
Decorating blind, again
Now sitting in Scotiabank’s my little apartment, I have owned exactly 2 homes in my 35 years. Both of them I bought sight unseen, from several thousand kilometres away. So wandering the showrooms and marketplace at IKEA, and burning my fingertips on my phone screen from spending so much time in their app, to furnish a place I hadn’t actually seen, wasn’t new or particularly surprising. It was in a way my bliss, and I loved every second of it.
Finding space for all of that love and bliss in a little Ford Escape wasn’t the most straight forward task. I knew in a worst case scenario, I could just ship up a few boxes and that wouldn’t be the end of the world. But I didn’t need to save any space for anything, it didn’t matter how ridiculous the inside of my car looked. There aren’t any prizes for unused space, so I may as well just try to take it all. I unpacked individual IKEA items to save on space and weight. I stuffed clothes into lampshades. I padded the back window with pillows to keep a floor mirror and ceiling track light from going through it on acceleration and bumps. Plants were boxed up in bunches and stacked. It was the culmination of nearly a decade of playing tetris with suitcases at YVR.
A few highways bumps made me bite my lip hard and turn my head back at my porcelain bathroom sink, as if I could see it, wondering if I had just rendered it useless. But thankfully not. Not that I was ever driving very fast anyway. I had litres per hundred records to set.
"There aren't any prizes for unused space, so I may as well just try to take it all."
Beauty anxiety and cosy nights
Long drives soothe me. They aren’t a chore, they’ve never felt like a thorn in my side or something I just needed to get over with. They’re one of the best parts of life, and in my dream car, going up through one of the most beautiful places in the world, it was something I was more than ready to enjoy every second of. I just wish there were more McDonald’s for their baked apple pies and black coffee.
So more than 9 weeks behind schedule, it was finally departure day for the Yukon after a multiple-time extended summer in BC. Hotels were booked, cancelled, and re-booked. It was a running joke in my mum’s house that every conversation we had about how my apartment is coming along in Whitehorse, the year of completion got exponentially more ridiculous.
"Don't you go falling in love with my ZZ plant now, because I'm taking it with me when I leave here in 2054."
But now I was staring down another 2,200 kilometres, a distance I’d been used to doing straight through. I would this time spread it out over 3 days. 8 hour drives easily became 14 hour days between coffee breaks, emergency photo stops, drone launches, and deep breaths in the sweet forest air.
The weather changed often and dramatically. Golden hour light took my breath away, touching the very tops of trees or peaks of mountains. Blue hour felt never ending and never more beautiful. It was the best of summer, every moment of it. The beauty was almost too much for my chest.
