A great truth I came to understand in a deeper way this winter is that all life is changing and trying to stop time or hold on to the past is impossible. Daily I remind myself that planet Earth (with us aboard) is speeding through space, the womb-like magnetic shield of the sun protecting us from the black matter of the universe.
Excitedly in the evenings, I watch for the moon rise and the first planet-star so I can imprint deeper on my psyche this wondrous truth. It is such a lively picture I paint in my mind of the majestic dance of the solar system, the long frigid cold days of early spring donSA¹ú¼ÊÓ°ÊÓ´«Ã½™t seem so bleak.
For the third year in a row, no caribou have come to Reliance. Which also means few wolves or wolverine. ItSA¹ú¼ÊÓ°ÊÓ´«Ã½™s because of the forest fires of 2014 the caribou have changed their migration patterns; they go far south and North of us now. When I first came to Reliance, the caribou were an important part of our daily winter life. First came the Beverly herd, followed by the Bathurst herd. A single cow, often with a calf, would be the leading the herd on the old paths she had learned from her mother. The caribou would walk right in front of our house on their way through the frozen Maufelly Narrows, and one of my favorite pastimes was to stand on the front deck and whistle to them as they passed only feet away. The mesmerizing sound of their hoofs softly clicking in the snow would stop as they turned to listen to my voice, sizing me up for danger. Content I posed no threat (with our freezers full of meat already) they would again begin their long trek east or west depending on the season.
Running before and after the caribou herds would come the packs of wolves filled with blood-lust, hunting fresh meat every few days, the rest of their time occupied with keeping their social hierarchy in order. Even without the caribou, we still keep close watch on the lake with our binoculars hoping for a random pack to pass through. The benefit of our constant surveillance is that we see other wildlife as the area becomes repopulated. Musk-ox and lynx numbers both seem to be on the rise, and there are lots of moose hanging around browsing on the willows. Two magpies moved into the area, their beautiful iridescent black feathers catching the blue light as they swoop around the yard. I suppose they will replace the merlinSA¹ú¼ÊÓ°ÊÓ´«Ã½™s who used to nest here.
The little lone nuthatch has managed to keep going through this bitter winter, thanks to our constantly filled birdfeeder and compost heap. He doesnSA¹ú¼ÊÓ°ÊÓ´«Ã½™t seem to be able to really fluff-up to keep warm like the chickadees and whiskey jacks, and he spends hours cleaning up scraps that the ravens would get otherwise. This tough little bird has been inspiring as he focuses on staying alive in the hardest circumstances, probably himself unsure how he ended up way out here in Reliance when all his family wisely stayed to the south.
Things change, we are a part of the expanding mandala of the universe. Nothing in our lives or on the planet stays the same, given that we are all subject to random chance. The Earth is around 4.5 billion years old and it took a lot of climate change to get the conditions we are enjoying right now.
The time will come, very soon in galactic time, when our species will be gone into the dust, just like so many others. All it takes is for our sun to go through a century long cooling period, and in a brief hundred thousand years some other alpha species will be digging up our bones and churches, trying to understand where homo-sapiens fit into the picture.