I take a long walk inland along the Golsovia River. To my back is the frozen jumble of the Bering Sea, stretching 300 miles to Russia. The whole scene appears empty and barren, but I know that is false. This economy gives a elegance, a clean line, as if seeing the sleek hip of Sweet Mama Nature rather than the wild hair on her head. There is a simplicity of honesty here.
Nothing is fou-fou or fake.
The place doesn t try to impress with add-on value or extra color or a grandiose brag. If the observer adds exclamation points, well, that s the scales dropping from their eyes. The barometer drops during these two rest days, a harbinger of a storm gathering out of sight. I m thankful for the Arctic survival clothing. The temperature hovers near zero and there is a ten-degree wind chill.