Northern Life
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Qimuksiq
The weather has been extremely fine lately. Without a breeze the Sun's warmth is glorious. Days like these are undeniably fine. Bolt, our family dog, has finally been getting the exercise and attention he needs. And he loves to pull, true to his heritage. For a little dog, that has been largely sedentary he digs
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Pants so warm, sustainable, and stylish…
… they're banned in Europe. My new seal silipaq.
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Run Canyon Run.
It was surprisingly cold today. Surprisingly cold after the feeling that we are turning towards Spring, it being the Equinox yesterday and all. But at -30C with a stiff wind Spring seems a long way off. And it was directly into that stiff wind that a friend and I headed, back towards Ullisautitalik, or Rabbit
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Look to the light
I know I've been a bad blogger, and you can throw in bad correspondent in email as well. If you are one of my friends awaiting email; no I'm not upset with you. I just have no desire to sit at the computer pounding away at the keys. Right now, anyway. It will change. Nothing's
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At rest
I occasionally post photos online at Canadian Geographic's Photo Club. Lately I've been posting a series of black and white Arctic Grave photos, and because the post I've been working on isn't any closer to be written I'll post them here as some filler. I've posted colour versions of some of them here in the
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Our Cirque Du Soleil
The Sun returned to Arctic Bay today. A little before noon, Travis, who had been checking the horizon every couple of minutes, saw the first sliver of it peeking above the mountains across Adam's Sound. Apparently though three months without it have destroyed whatever mediocre camera skills I had. Both my lenses, unnoticed until later,
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Blah blah blah
Okay, I've recovered from the week long hangover of The Nunies, and hopefully will get back to regular programming. Its funny, I've not had any shortage of things to write just a shortage of, desire. And strangely, even though I know its counter-productive to maintaining an audience for this little corner of the blogospher, I
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Rimed crescent
There is something indescribably beautiful about an icy cold day in the High Arctic, as the dark season rushes to its end. It is -34C, and mostly calm. Snow crunches and squeaks below your feet, ice fog lightly blurs the horizon. Ravens soar in the noon brightness, looking for food and mischief, finding both. Without