smells like summer.

It's November 8th, we've had two snowfalls already, the leaves are all off the trees, and yet, this morning felt like a summer morning. The streets were wet, the air was perfumed with rain, and the chorus of birds chirping as a rode my bike to the Rec slapped me in the face with summer nostalgia. No better way to start the day. The nostalgia always has two ends. One brings me back to endless summers swimming outside at Soldier's Field, waking up at the crack of dawn and saying a prayer for thunderstorms to rain out practice. On the other end brings me to the days and weeks spent up North, with a paddle in my hands and the ground (alright, more like my thermarest) for a bed. Many of my middle school and high school summers were split between the two.

The summer of 2004 found me very far away from home, still with a paddle in my hand, but not in the North woods. With five other women I spent 43 days up in the Nunavut territories of Canada. We were at the mercy of the wind and sun, rain and sleet, hot and cold, sand and ice, frozen lakes and rushing rapids, and of course, the arctic bugs. We didn't see another soul until day 41--excepting caribou, muskoxen, white wolves, and other small critters. Below I have posted pictures of our trip.

land of the midnight sun.

click here for ultra-cool arctic slideshow