solstice

Last night was our Grad. We're still cleaning up the mess, but it was a great evening. All the graduates made speeches, none came to school drunk (it's happened - they get so nervous!), and all were smiley and decked out in prom dresses and suits. I get so proud sometimes I could bust. The rest of the weekend will be spent in smaller, wrap-up celebrations and barbecues.

We do continue to exist and grow in spite of the ongoing state of emergency. Buttercups and arctic poppies line the roads. I marvel that they can grow in sandy gravel.


Ice pans often come to rest on the mudflats left behind by the tides. I spent some time this afternoon laying out on a smooth rock in the sunshine, listening to the muted thundering of the kullik across the fjord. It reminded me of those quiet times I used to spend alone, on purpose, looking for solitude. I sometimes get lonely up here and I forget that solitude is as important as companionship.

After my little sun bath I walked along the shore all the way to the devastated bridge where work is proceeding to both prevent the new bridge from falling and to build a temporary bridge until better plans can be made.

A photo of all our grads of 2008, minus one. We have had a mature student return to school to finish her diploma, and she's been a great student. However, her son is sick and had to be flown to Ottawa. I know she was disappointed to work so hard only to miss the ceremony.