The four of us, along with Leah’s sister Sheba, her little sister Sipporah, and nephew Bradley went blueberry picking last night. Yesterday evening was one of those days that you wish that summer lasted a lot longer up here. We had scrambled down a hill off the road to Nanisivik, in a little draw that had plenty of berries (but for those of you used to picking blueberries in the south, plenty is a relative term. After I picked enough to have counted myself as useful, I went and sat with the kids, stuffing berries down Hilary’s maw and watching Travis, Sipporah and Bradley as they scrambled over the rocks looking for spiders and what ever caught their fancy.
The ocean was like a mirror, there wasn’t a breath of wind, and as I sat amongst a berry patch I admired all of the world laid out before me. The sun was low and the contrasts highlighted the land before me’s character, celebrating every contour, every scar. Far below I could hear a pair of Sandhill Cranes (I now have a pretty good idea where they nest) and something else that I do not know. I’m guessing that it may be Yellow-billed Loons. Ravens tumbled over head, delighting in the day and cackling with what could be nothing other than joie de vivre. As the blueberries kept disappearing into Hilary and she’d smile and say "More more more!" you could not help but know that all was well with the world.
After the women had decided that they had enough we headed back to town, but stopped at First Bridge to join others there who were having a picnic. Travis threw stones in the rushing water and drank glass after glass from the cold refreshing river. The fragrant smoke of a Heather fire wafted around, and we ate delicious smoky Caribou, sliced thin, seasoned only with salt. A finer tasting meat could not be found, wonderfully infused with the Heather smoke, the perfume of the earth.
The edge of our hunger gone, we then drove out to Victor Bay, stopping to try and get a look at the small char that were rising in the first lake on the way there. The sun was setting across Admiralty Inlet, which was not shrouded by fog for the first time in what feels like weeks. Unbelievably the entire ocean had not a ripple on it, and we watched gulls wheel and turn and the land turn to gold, while the sky turned pink and mauve and purple. A Baird’s Sandpiper entertained from a small pond, but other than it’s occasional call there was not a sound to be heard, even the Gulls held their voices as the sun edged its way down the horizon.
A more perfect evening could not be found, except perhaps if the sky could have deepened enough to have seen the Perseid meteor shower. I miss lying on a sleeping bag in the cool darkness watching light streak across the heavens. All of this just for me.
Comments
6 responses
You did a great job describing the scene here… very detailed!
Great description, but I want pictures! (laughs).
Relative is indeed a term one uses with Arctic Bay blueberries- I remember when I was there last Aug. everyone was telling me there were LOTS!, LOTS!, but I kept looking and never found a good patch, so I told people where I’d been and they’d say YES! There’s LOTS there! I then realized that “lots” is a very relative term… Congrats on having enough patience to pick “lots”! I have enough trouble picking them in Algonquin Park or northern Manitoba, where they are lotsier.
Wonderful description of what must have been a lovely day.
Hi Clare,
Your dicription of the enviroment around Arctic Bay indicated that you are a very observant and or trying to make me homesick! Of course, I am homesick especially when boating is good, sail out at 6 AM and go down to the end of Admas Sounds for a day, hmmm!
Hey! Show some pictures, will you, Thanks.
That’s beautiful, Clare. And after I read it I read the previous post (catching up today), and was reminded why I may never see a day like that. I think you’ve got it just right about sovereignty in the north.
Thanks Patrick,
Hey Nancy. Know exactly what you mean. I have a story from my first days up here that is exactly that, someone showing me the “lots” of blueberries that they had picked, and my pining for La Ronge. But Leah & I (mostly Leah) managed to pick well over a litre in the time we were gone, which wasn’t bad. She plans on taking a day off and going out for the entire day sometime this week.
Thanks Bev, It was a wonderful Day.
Joanasie, yep I’m trying to make you homesick. Come back for a visit. While I was sitting there I was wishing I’d taken a camera, but then I started thinking no, this way I’ll take it in in more detail, without relying on the camera to “remember” it for me. Next perfect day.
Thanks Pamela, it is days like that that make the trip up here worth the cost.