There is fresh snow on the mountains this morning. I would like to share my appeal for help for my good friend Heidi with you. She lost her off-grid home to a fire - luckily, nobody was injured.
Heidi is a wonderful, strong and very positive person, but it's hard for anyone to lose their home and all the irreplaceable things of sentimental value in it to a fire - no less for her, being in her early 70s now.
If you're on Facebook or Twitter, please consider sharing this plea for help.
Sunday, June 10, 2018
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
Sunday, February 11, 2018
… when -27°C (-20°F) feels so balmy that you have to open not only your jacket, but your hoodie as well, and take off your mittens because it’s just too hot.
|Four months of solitude, and yeah, I do look a bit ... wild|
January is always a quiet month out here, the animals settled into their mid-winter range which doesn’t seem to include us. It’s also been nice and cold for a change. I invariably look forward to cold snaps where every little task feels like a major achievement: chopping the day’s firewood supply while fingers and toes turn something very much like frozen wood, chopping the thick ice that encroaches into the waterhole from the sides and threatens to constrict the diameter to less than water bucket size, going for a walk without re-freezing my toe, frost-bitten a few winters ago.
And just as invariably, after four days or so I begin to grumble at the same things I looked forward to. Waking up to 5°C (40°F) inside the cabin is losing its charm. Goes to show how moods are silly things and have just about nothing to do with outside influences, and all the more with how we deal with situations.
Writing is a fun way out of cabin fever, a little trip into a fantasy world entirely my own, and I’ve been spending pleasant weeks kicking words around inside my head.
There has been precious little to blog about, so I didn’t, but here are some images to make up for the lack of posts:
|Ice pushed up into a pressure ridge, imitating plate tectonics|
|My water hole and its attendant sun dial|
|Haven't been using my studio to avoid having to heat two buildings|
|I can never get enough of the incredible variants of winter light|
|Morning yellow is one of my favourite colours|
Thursday, December 21, 2017
Spirit made a full recovery and was released back into the wild in mid-June this year together with his good friend Mimosa who came from the same region.
The bear cubs I cared for during my ten months at the shelter are always on my mind, especially the thirteen yearlings we released. I hope Spirit, Mimosa and the others are safe and hibernating in good dens, and that those who have not survived will have known happiness in their time back in the wild.
The sun will spill more light now regardless.