One last trip out to Kluane before the rest of September fills out with almost nightly aurora chases. It’s my busiest month since 2020, and I’m so thankful for that, but you won’t find me pretending it’s not really hard.

The one thing I’ve wanted more than anything in the world since about March 21st, 2020 - a day after the Northwest Territories locked down for what ended up being almost 2 full years, was security and safety. And the one place you won’t find safety and security, is in a small, tourism sole proprietorship. But I love it. I did before 2020, in all my naivety, and I still do love it today too, but it’s definitely different. I’ve been in and out, searching for day jobs, desk jobs, where everything in my life changes in favour of that security and safety, but for right now, I still carry on here. It’s not that I don’t love this, in fact I probably appreciate it more than I ever have, in a place that’s more beautiful than anywhere I’ve ever lived, but sometimes things just change.

“Anyone can nurture a myth about their life if they have enough manure, so if the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence, that’s probably because it’s full of shit.”

After a summer of successfully nurturing a pathetic few blades of grass into a now small green oasis in an otherwise sandy construction zone outside my apartment, yellows and reds continue to spring up everywhere around us. All over the mountains, shadows dance revealing entire fields of beautiful fall colour. Clouds lift from the mountain peaks outside of my windows, showing fresh snow that lasts the day or maybe two. It’s magical, and I wish I had more time for intimate nature bathing, all day, every day, but these little moments every day noticing those new patches of yellow, hillsides of red, and peaks with new snow are enough to let out some heavy beauty sighs, and I love that. I really love that a lot.