Thoughts from the north

Sometimes I look at other people's lives and they look so normal and lovely and I feel a tiny hint of wishing that normal life was mine.

What if my biggest concern on Sunday morning was that my baby didn't cry during a baptism ceremony? Instead, I am sitting on a rickety, single-prop plane from the 70's, flying at 400 feet under a layer of intense fog wondering if my baby and I are going to die in a plane crash on the tundra. My thoughts race on: what would Nick do if something happened to us? And next, one of us really needs to get our bush pilot's license so we can do this on our own schedule.

The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, I know. And I am not one to spend too much time dwelling on the what-ifs in life. I chose this pasture and most of the time I am very content chewing my cud here.

But sometimes, moments catch me quietly considering the possibilities of a simpler life in a city somewhere. Having friends in one place that we can have over for dinner on a Friday night. Frolicking in a park on a sunny summer day.

And then I take a deep breath of the tundra air, recently infused with the aroma of labrador flowers, anticipating the onslaught of millions of salmon and I realize that this is my place. This is exactly where I am supposed to be right now. Things may change but for now, this is normal.