have love, will travel

This is my amazing sister Emmy and I yesterday, in the sunshine.

I'm moving to the high Arctic. Her road's going a different way.

I don't know where or when we'll see each other again, but I can't wait.

We'll always be close.

PS. For the next six months, this blog is going change in ways I can't predict. The next report will be from Resolute.

with me far away

9.

Who was to know what should come home to me?

Who knows but I am enjoying this?

Who knows but I am as good as looking at you now, for all you cannot see me?

I'm in my favourite place, which is actually no place, it's a place between places and it's always on the move.

I'm with a comrade who is certainly the most earnest, he in antique military garb heading out of the wind to re-load his camera.

So now I'm here alone in the greatness, in the wind, in the sound of ice and water turning into each other, and all I can think of is this, and I can't get the order, and I can't get the words, but what I have is this boat in this no-place and Walt Whitman in the sunset.

2.

The similitudes of the past, and those of the future;

The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings--on the walk in the street, and the passage over the river;

The current rushing so swiftly, and swimming with me far away;

The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them;

The certainty of others--the life, love, sight, hearing of others.

Walt Whitman

86. Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

Leaves of Grass