As our virus battle continues, it’s good to know that nature is benefitting. There’s much less human activity and our oceans, forests, grasslands and animals are reaping the profits.
The Pacific Ocean off the coast of Vancouver Island
I hate everything about this situation, but at least nature is getting a break.
And that’s marvellous. 🙂
On a recent road trip, I recorded our entry into the light.
The frosty, shrouded air …
… began to turn orange.
The sun began to appear …
amid the trees until …
Soleil!
Sometimes, breaking into the light comes after a lovely lustrous rime.
Greetings from the frosty northern sun. 🙂
One of the most beautiful winter phenomena
is ice fog. It occurs in wind-still conditions when water droplets in the air become supercooled.
It can be dangerous for travelling but if you don’t have to go anywhere, it’s beautiful to see.
Winter’s greetings. 🙂
I took this photo of Great Slave Lake at 10:15 a.m just as the sun had finished its slow ponderous climb.
It was -36°C out, but I took my mitts off for this capture. I am learning the art of quick photography in these frigid temperatures.
I love the clear simplicity of this weather; its voice is smooth and crystalline in the still cold air.
A tone without noise.
Winter greetings from the north. 🙂
It’s December in the north.
When I stand in the cold to see this, I begin to get an inkling of how special it all is, and how privileged I am to be a part of it.
Greetings from the north’s best season.
Hello winter!
It’s cold, and pewter grey, with blue sky in glimpses and bits.
Lustrous lacy frost hangs on trees and grasses and in the very air itself.
Winter is here, and with it, its beauties and muffled quiet.
🙂
Well, maybe. It seems that everyone to the south of us is experiencing some interesting cold weather with large dumps of snow. 
We have had some snow, but by Halloween it had mostly disappeared and temperatures were above 0°C. We are getting some snow today, but it’s still fairly warm out. Very strange for this area, but the elders do say that generally, the northern weather is a lot warmer than it used to be. For this year, they also predict a severe winter based on their observations of the behaviour of the animals. I posted about that earlier this autumn. So far, though, that doesn’t seem to be case.
A frozen lake photo from last year.
Yath is the Chipewyan word for snow. Chipewyan is one of the eleven official languages of the Northwest Territories – French, English and nine indigenous languages. There are lots of yath-related words and compound words. The quality and quantity of the yath is very important to the animals and their survival, and hence to the health of the land. Because of that, lots of yath vocabulary came into being.
I never thought that I would think so much about yath. But I do now.
New yath. (Yup, that’s a small joke. Really small, I know … )
As I already stated, yath is extremely important up here. An entire ecosystem has evolved with it, and many species depend on it for their survival, both animals and plants. It is a seminal part of the culture of the indigenous peoples. But it’s not as healthy as it has been.
The amount of yath that falls is erratic and unpredictable; it starts late, it starts early; it’s too cold at the wrong time, it’s too warm at the wrong time. And that seems to be the case farther south, too.
This exhausts the animals and plants, can damage their health or even kill them outright. A bear that wakes up too early will have nothing to eat, may try to beg from humans, and … a fed bear is a dead bear. A fast thaw can cause flooding followed by drought.
We all need healthy yath. Cold when it’s supposed to be cold, melting when it’s supposed to be melting. Crispy and squeaky in -40°C, soft and sticky in -1°C.
It looks so hardy and tough, but it is actually a sort of delicate white carpet that stains easily, so the next time you’re treated to some yath, I encourage you to try to appreciate its intricacy and necessity, even if you hate what comes with it and the chores it brings.
Greetings from yath central. 🙂
In the north, lilac takes a long time to bloom.
It’s July, yes, but these hardy blooms do arrive, even if late by southern standards.
I found this particular bush after a rain when their fragrance was particularly lush and heady.
Hardy they may be, but they spread their gaudy celebration of life with gusto.
Greetings from the lovely northern lilac. 🙂
Here are two more views of the precious rain forest that can be found on Vancouver Island.
The rain forest, although damp and sodden, has a peacefulness that is easily communicated to humans. Our busy lives tire us out so much, and just taking a quick break in a forest is a wonderful, rejuvenating, special thing.
Another view of one of those ancient Douglas firs. Aren’t they wonderful? I hope they live for many, many more decades.
See the sea plant.
See the sand on the sea plant.
See the surf wash the sandy sea plant away.
Such is the soul of the sea.
🙂
