lessons from the arctic (2)

sometimes there are frogs the size of your thumbnail and frogs the size of your palm. sometimes a dragonfly will fearlessly land on the tip of your boot, hitching a ride for a stride before catching a boost and flicking itself back into the bog. sometimes a twisted root catches your eye, but it's not a reindeer antler. sometimes a dead branch will catch your eye, but it's not a reindeer antler.

sometimes, you take a break from watching your footing and look up to see a reindeer peering quizzically over the rocky ledge at you, its antlers forming a near complete circle as if it could telegraph its question to you: who are you?

in the middle distance, metal clangs hollow across the mist, and your new friend tosses his head and bounds back to join the herd.

29 August 2018 21:03