I am walking Maggie on this windless morning, in the dim light of 9am here in Hidden Valley, Whitehorse, Yukon. The snow is tinged with alternating colours of pre-dawn cyan and the orange of the street lamps. I am greedily sucking in the cold crisp air like a drug and I feel all of my doubts and self-consciousness and worries being cleansed from my body. I can’t remember ever tasting air this clean.
As I round the bend I see a view of the wide Yukon river, evergreen forests and snow-covered mountains in the distance. I blink; it feels like this view is too good to be true, like it might disappear any second. But it remains.
I stop, and without the crunching sound of my boots on snow all I hear is silence. I think I have craved this silence without realizing it. I feel at peace.
I trudge back to the B&B awash with the sounds of conversation, coffee brewing, breakfast cooking, dogs wanting either in, or out, depending what side of the door they are on. I’m glad I had this morning to start this day, even though I know the doubts will start to wiggle their back into my strange head, but for now, I feel clear.