Edge of tomorrow: an Arctic year by Sam Wright

By Sam Wright

From one of many final nice wildernesses -- the Brooks diversity of Alaska, 100 miles contained in the Arctic Circle -- Sam Wright speaks to an rising view of nature as an interconnected, dynamic entire. dwelling in a hand-built, 12'-by-12' cabin, Wright documents seasonal adjustments and his concepts as he and his spouse stay a yr in isolation and contemplation.

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For many, this emerging view of nature is in a realm separate from the textures and emotions of daily experience. However, the insights of quantum physics and what has been called a new consciousness shift our assumptions about reality. <><><><><><><><><><><><> All speculation about meaning is based upon our assumptions about reality. One part of reality is what we call subjective. Another is objective. Objective is the reality out there. " Subjective has to do with the way we create reality inside ourselves.

Did I come to appreciate Koviashuvik Page 36 less because pain and despair had entered into this earthly Eden of mine? No. It is still here, timeless, beautiful beyond imagination, now white and pristine with the snows of winter and covered with stillness but for the wild free songs of the wolves and the soft drowsy murmurs of the great grizzlies as they lie in their hidden places of winter's hibernation. Awe and mystery still reside here among the sky-reaching mountain peaks. The sweet cold air from the north promises the certainties of more winters to come, followed inexorably by the certainties of springs to come when thousands of migrating birds will once again arrive.

A code for the survival of our species and of the earth. As I went out to chop wood to start a fire in the Yukon Stove, I found that all our axes were gone. When Billie went up into the cache to get the food supplies we had left, she found it empty. Our fishing poles and gear were gone. Our basic hand tools were gone, as was our snowmobile brought in at considerable cost by the small ski plane flying over 200 miles from Fairbanks. And its toboggan on which we hauled our winter wood. Checking further, now stunned with disbelief, we found all our snowshoes missing.

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