Immaculate Solstice
The rising mist off of the creek could easily have been interpreted as eerie. I was awestruck. I wouldn't even have noticed it though if the full moon wasn't out. It was 18 below zero. I turned off my headlamp. It was still another four days until the winter solstice so it's not as if I was traipsing around on the shortest and darkest day of the year. I had a different plans for that day.
I stood there along the creek side taking my time, watching the moon cast its hypnotic charms upon the small valley. The portrait of the moon this night resembled no cheese I’m aware of. The impression I got rather, was one of rounded fluorescence. The light was as fluorescent-white as I’ve ever seen. Breaks in the clouds of steam from the creek lit the valley with the power of the moon intermittently until another plume of steam dulled it down again.
There was nothing in my traps today and yet I was happy. My modest recreational trap line is accessed on foot. I have found that I don’t really care too much whether or not I have caught anything nearly as much as the fact that I have a good reason to get out. A means not only to an end but also a purpose to go for a hike and reason to pay attention to my surroundings, to the snow pack, the fresh tracks; this country is alive and when I'm out in it I am a part of it and it has become a part of me too.
The creek was spilling out of a small lake that had been dammed by beavers. The basin of the lake itself was illuminated around the corner by the moon and I considered changing course to check it out. Maybe there was something ethereal going on up there. Maybe the last of the lake-ice was sealing up for the winter bidding goodnight to all. Maybe a moose or fox could be spotted in the floodlight of the moon.
I didn't give it a chance though, I strapped my hiking poles onto my hands, turned on my headlamp and crossed the creek. I turned my back on this immaculate event choosing instead to hike up and into the darkness of the forest and eventually back home.
