When I tell someone I lived in a remote Arctic hamlet in the Canadian Northwest Territories their eyebrows go up and their head crooks quizzically to the side. To my own surprise and everyone else’s I did – for five years. I worked and even had a kid there.when I started browsing northern teaching jobs. As the screen displayed offbeat location names, WhaTì caught my eye.
When you drive into WhaTí, the first thing you might see is the town dump adorned with tattered stuffed animals perched on the fence to ward off scavengers such as black bears and ravens. Then you will round the naked ground that makes a fire barrier on a gravel slope leading to the lake where my co-workers and I walked our dogs a gazillion times, wary of wolves.
Up there, geography is an enchanted text for a city dweller. The winding snow paths are scrolls, glittering with the language of snow crust. Dark, thin sheets of ice called nilas spoke of fresh freeze or a new thaw. Ice jewels scattered on glassy shores told us which way the wind whistled through. Sometimes, sastrugi appear: sharp, irregular ridges like exposed bones, brushed by wind and snow until the land resembles the jaws of monster pike.
Nodelphi Noastack Snow Daughter Wind Story Place Dog Ice Yellowknife Yellowknife Northwest Territories Jack Nicholson
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