A chaotic, messy time

The ugliest time

My life this time of the year always feels so chaotic and messy. There’s so much messy, dustiness, and crazy weather. Gale force winds, hail, snow and sun within a couple hours. Clouds blow low overhead at unbelievable speed. I think a lot of this feeling is the dramatic temperature swings. The sun is so hot, but by nightfall I’m bringing all my plants back inside and experiencing the most excruciating pain in my ears because of the cold wind while on a short run.

In Yellowknife, the ugliest time of the year for me was May. The aurora was all but gone, gravel filled the streets, dog poop any trail or sidewalk, and nature was just a snowless, dry mess lacking colour or life. I hated it. I could never get out of Yellowknife fast enough when aurora season ended.

I was expecting something similar now in Whitehorse, but it was far less so. The end of April was a little rough, but street sweeping started in March and continued quickly along, and that sort of… ‘ugly’ in nature just never really happened. The snow would melt and vibrant lichen and moss already seemed to be thriving. River ice loosened it’s grip and the vibrant teals and blues never looked more beautiful. New growth on evergreen trees seemed to be everywhere.

“There’s just nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

My mornings now are basking in the eastern sun on my patio with my coffee, and over half the day later, the aurora still appears faint against the twilight northern sky too.

The ugliest time has also always been lightened by the return of the birds to the north. The return of the swans was a spectacular and addictive experience for me this year, and if you’ll ever come to Whitehorse in April or early May, you cannot miss a visit to Swan Haven and the opportunity to chat or walk with expert Jukka Jantunen, which of course we did a few times.

With my mamma bear safely back in the scorching southern heat, I’ve fallen back into my night owl ways.

The last week of evenings for me have been out in the countryside late into, and well through, the night. Hours of hours of chasing the most beautiful light, sweet smells of the forest, and innocent, quiet exploration through forests, along shorelines, and gravel roads. I haven’t felt such a love of life, curiousity and inspiration like this in such a long time, and at the heels of what has traditionally been my least favourite time of the year is both so unexpected and very, very welcome.

The whole family together

Walking right back into winter

“Walking…”, I can hear my mummy murmur from here, with a… gently unimpressed expression on her face. Probably about the same expression when she’d see my high school report cards… variations of “Seems satisfied with minimal effort. Could do better.”, or when she’d get home from yoga at 10:30am this past summer and there wasn’t a green smoothie waiting for her on the counter yet because one of us slept in, again.

So, this was more of a hike than a walk, and it was a little longer than perhaps originally promised.

My mamma bear was up for a visit the last little while, right at the turn of spring. And when we weren’t assembling some smaller IKEA goodies that made the trip up with her (I love you, Air North, for your two free checked bags policy), we endlessly explored the countryside, went on long neighbourhood walks, claimed ownership of the park swings, and played tag-you’re-it in a 70 sq/m apartment right before bed. I’m far, far behind on blogging, but with a full heart and memory (cards).

The annual Leafs vs. Canucks bestie weekend

It was the full face smile, laugh out loud reaction to spotting each other in arrivals at the airport. It was once again just like falling right back into old times, and there is nothing is better than that.

My Ontarian bestie was back, and for the first time in Whitehorse.

In our annual tradition of shared suffering, we carved out a few hours over dinner to watch the Canucks beat the Leafs.

Of course it’s all good fun, and the pain doesn’t really start until the Leafs exit in the first round again, and the Canucks fall in the draft lottery. As per tradition.

Winter walks through this beautiful little neighbourhood, the forest trails, and out to the cliffs were accompanied by thermoses of perfected glühwein.

Other days saw long drives through the mountains with warm drinks and delicious snacks, and endless nature bathing while the wind howled and the warmth of the sun continued to return, even in the -20s.

Like every visit, this was the just-so-good-for-the-soul, laughter induced cheek and stomach pain, emotionally raw weekend that makes life so special.

Livets ånde

The cure I know to help against grumpy days and everything just not working is long drives and the ice.

Ice froze all over the windows on a morning of -27°, and then I met the best of that in the middle of nowhere, on the centre of a lake in total silence except the deep sounds of the ice itself.

The beauty and the comfort of the ice is beyond any kind of comprehension I have. I stayed for hours walking from uncovered patch to uncovered patch in an endless and aimless wandering. The wind created such beautiful and fragile textures in the snow and the ice sang almost endlessly. It didn’t matter to me when the batteries died, I just wanted to stay out there for ever.

The bittersweet of longer days

To lose this kind of all day light hurts a little bit. It’s one of my favourite things about winter, one of the things I love the most and one of the things I strongly crave through the rest of the year.

But loss in one place leaves room for growth in another.

These already longer days move the sun further north and higher in the sky, once again reaching over the mountains and into my bedroom at sunrise. Standing at my windows and feeling the warmth and brightness of the direct sun on my face is almost cathartic.

And now, I start to dream about patio furniture, coffee outside, and growing greens on my balcony. That is not so far away, but of course, it is definitely not for the middle of February.