Spring thaw

The past week has been full of activity; sound reasons for my lack of blogging. Sunday was supposed to be the big day of camp put ins. We hoped for a minumum of three flights to Raven. I awoke at 0400. When I looked out the window of our room I saw pink lenticular clouds hovering in foramtion above the not too ditant ice cap. These harbingers of stormy weather are awesome to observe, but often times, there threats become promises. Though we went through all the motions, (the first plane was loaded by 0700) the only birds to soar in the strong winds and blowing snow yesterday morning, were the ravens who are busy playing with their mates.
By afternoon the sun had broken through. This has been the week of the begining of break up. Everything that was frozen is thawing. The river has begun to melt. A channel of moving water procedes into the fjord. Strong torrents run down the middle of steep sandy roads. Lakes stand in the midst of flat areas that were soft with snow only a few days ago. Rivulets decending the granite bulwarks along the watson river leave silty deposits that look more like satelite images of aluvial Martian formations than anything else I could suggest.
I look closely at the shrub willow for sign of budding; there is velvet down on the tips of their branches. Deep in the heath, past the fallen leaves of last years dwarf alder and the bones of a caribou, one can see the brightening green of a liverwort or moss.
I leave now to go and begin another day of loading planes, shuffeling boxes, moving cylinders of propane, sneeking glances of the ravens free falling on wind.