FROZEN DREAMS

Frozen Dreams

My ultimate fantasy trip of a life-time is not to lie on the beach on some tropical island while a warm breeze parts the palm fronds above as I sip a cool drink from a coconut.
I wanna go North!
Up where the breezes are cool and the beaches are rocky and ice-strewn. Where the caribou and the musk ox run free, and the mosquitoes swarm so thick that they can dim the everlasting summer sun. I dream to trek across the open expanses of the frozen tundra, living off the land. I want to partake of the hospitality of the Inuit, learning their ways of survival in the harshest of climes. I want to wear a robe and mittens of sealskin and mukluks made of the finest walrus hide. I will watch as clouds of migrating bird’s trouble the waters of a pristine glacial lake. I want to catch the grayling and the char and cook it over a fire of driftwood from a distant unforeseen boreal forest. I long to lie on my back and watch the Aurora Borealis paint the black sky with curtains of pastel brilliance. I want to feel the bite of -45 F on uncovered skin!
I want to watch polar bears (from a distance, of course) as they lumber across the whiteness, ever searching for their next meal. I dream to sail the open waters of the polar sea, up the west coast of Greenland, passing giant headlands and countless glaciers and unnamed mountain peaks. Sailing northward, going as far as the pack ice will allow me. Retracing the route of the ill-fated Franklin expedition and the later voyage of Amundsen through the Northwest Passage. I will trudge onward as a lemming, crossing each new barrier without a thought of turning back.
My infatuation of all things “arctic” began over two decades ago when I discovered the books of Farley Mowat. His stories and sociologic insights into the people that inhabit the vast expanses of the Great White North filled me with intrigue. He traveled extensively throughout the arctic, preserving the ways of life in his reports. He brought to light the hardships and travails facing the Inuit and the Siberians, along with the issues of habitat destruction, over-fishing, oil exploitation and introduced diseases. All of these things have a detrimental effect on the northern societies. His books, Sea of Slaughter, People of the Deer, The Siberians, Never Cry Wolf, The Desperate People and the Boat Who Wouldn’t Float, are must read’s for anyone looking for an insight in the nether reaches on the far north.
While I long to step foot on the frozen soil, I also know that dreams are dreams. Dreams are what you make of them. Some people have an uncanny knack for making their dreams come to fruition and others, me included, dream just to be dreaming. My head sometimes swims with countless thoughts, and I struggle trying to make sense of the mish-mash. Thoughts of a child. 1 Corinthians 13:11 tells us….I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
I guess I will always struggle with this one, and next year I’ll probably be reclining on a beach beneath an umbrella slathered in SPF 45, reading a book about the arctic, drinking frozen lemonade and watching Sharla bake in the sun while Carson splashes and builds sand castles.
Oh, the life of a dreamer…and forever a little boy!