Yukon bush life

It’s hard to find ways to celebrate special occasions in the bush. You can’t go for a meal or buy some cheap prosecco and get shit faced. It was our wedding anniversary on Saturday. Creek causing big puddles at the river's edge We’d saved 4 cans of beer but what else to do? The best we came up with was finishing the scribed log kennel we are making for our dog. It didn’t promise to be very romantic but suddenly, between the chainsawing and the swearing, a wolf howled from across the valley. Making notches in logs for our ungrateful dog After each howl an echo rang from the hills and hung in the air. He was joined by his friend from the bottom of our ramp, and another on the creek behind us. They were so damn close, we ran over to try to record them, but as soon as I turned the Go-Pro on, they’d stop. It was like playing grandmother’s footsteps. Every time I turned it off and walked back to work, they’d howl, we’d dash back and the...

Winter held on until yesterday but today we are at +7c and our beautiful white world is fading fast. I’ve been “out”, as people say here, nearly all of March. I had to go to England to buy a Canadian-made log scribe, as I shall explain later. On my return the Yukon was resplendent with spring blue skies and dazzling white, so bright your eyes go blotchy when you step in the cabin and you fall over things. The top surface of the snow has thawed and refrozen giving it a shiny crust and the worn look of an old suit. In the woods it is dimpled with spruce needles and crud and everything looks like it needs a good sweep. The yard looking cruddy The river ice has started to sink. The jumble ice and boulder fields we fought to make trails through in December are now pillowy humps of sagging white. Between them are wide, flat snowfields. Holding hands with the Inukshuk iceman that appeared on the trail (See footnote) We’re hurtling towards 24...