Wave upon wave of lakes and snow-filled riverbeds revealed the Canadian Arctic in all its splendour. An infinite frozen wilderness, foreboding, yet magnificent.
I got off the skidoo and stepped into the deep, soft snow.
I had come to this distant land to reconnect with my childhood vision of a white alpha male Wolf.
As I began to walk towards a small ridge, I realized moving in the heavy snow was gruelling and painful.
When I finally reached the ridge I hunkered down and waited.
I knew that tracking a wild wolf in the Arctic Barrenlands was bound to be the greatest challenge of my long life.
I scanned the horizon but it was just me, the soft snowflakes mingling with the chilly wind.
When I listen carefully I can hear the echo of a long-forgotten time. In the arctic there is no yesterday, no tomorrow, there is only now.
I am 79.
And Not All Is Written.