I would like to die as I have lived disappear among the tundra winds be transformed into birdsong
In blue Light nature space the whole world, wide grazing land, the open spaces wind across the land and the sky, blue, high
The Arctic is a highway. The tree limit, the scarcity of trees, freed people to walk. Particularly in the wintertime. Which connected people physically, communicatively. And mythically. The long nights of winter free people to tell. And to listen.
