Language of the North

Language of the North 

 The sun falls below the horizon leaving streaking trails of purple and red throughout the clouded sky as my eager eyes struggle to rest. The anticipation of this trip, that seems once in a lifetime, had set in well earlier but won’t be gone until I reach my destination. I know that this is an annual trip, but the experience reaches new peaks every visit. Images of winding roads surrounded by landscapes densely littered with tall pines and birches danced through my thoughts and persisted into my dreams. In the mix of these thick forests lie bits and pieces of rivers and lakes, often with float planes coming and going. Finally, my brain took its leave for the night and let me fall peacefully into sleep. This tranquility came abruptly to a halt when I was awoken at four o’clock in the morning to begin the marathon of a drive to my northern utopia. Once all the necessities were packed up, the journey began underneath the starlit sky. I am beyond exhausted so falling asleep again is going to be a difficult task… or so I thought. The next thing I know, we make our first stop in a town called Cloquet, which is near Duluth, Minnesota. This stop is one of my favorites because it’s tradition to pick up donuts for the drive. We refuel ourselves and the vehicle and continue on north to our lakeside residency, observing the natural beauty around us start to gain.

                            

Oasis in the Pines, May 25, 2020, La Pine State Park, Oregon

At this point, we have left the farmlands and rolling hills that my eyes had tired of from quite a few seasons of it, dipping into the endless woods I yearn for. It is incredible the difference in wildlife we see on the roadside compared to where we departed, only a few hours south of here. The occasional sight of timberwolves, black bears, and even moose encourage me to keep my eyes peeled on what’s around me. My family will never fail to boisterously announce the presence of wildlife around us, no matter who is asleep. Though it was a bit of an irritant at the time, little things like that have always positively affected my outlook towards nature. The ooh and aah of the sighting of these animals is something I would rather not sleep through anyways. We cross the border and get past the Canadian farmland after roughly six hours of driving. This is where we unveil the paramount of the surroundings presented to us on this trek. Cliff faces of sheer rock growing moss and foliage atop, looking down over valleys of long grass and rivers make themselves seen as we go on. One thing I have noticed and appreciated over the years was the creation of Inukshuks –a carefully stacked pile of rocks that often symbolize the likeness of a human– alongside the route. These crafted structures amongst the imperfection of nature provide a beautiful sense of human intervention that neither damages the environment nor its inhabitants. I can only imagine the stories behind the making of such totems, but I often make one up in my head to occupy my thoughts.

Resting Timberwolf, June 30, 2018, Fujifilm X-T20

Driving over bridges where water skiers are surging by underneath us, weaving through valleys where there are mountainous formations all around us, and climbing up and down hills where we see a full 360 degrees around us, our journey is nearing its end. Within the last hour of the drive, the sun is peeking out behind clouds and shooting its reflections off the water, making the surroundings seem ethereal. With the last of the drive done, we see the sign revealing the destination of our journey. The sign reads in big letters: MINAKI. 

 I sit in the truck stricken with excitement, eager to get out and begin my stay in paradise, which is fitting as where we get out is named Paradise Cove. I launch out and begin to tote luggage to the boat in preparation to set sail to the cabin. As I step into the boat, I am reminded of the exciting instability of keeping my legs beneath me on the waves. We turn the engine on and begin, seeing friendly faces and pinecone shores on the way. I step foot onto my dock, and there I am, in the essence of dreams, immediately thinking about how little time I have left there. How is it that I can dread leaving before I have even established myself? In my mind, that is how one knows that they are somewhere they are truly happy, or with someone who makes them truly happy. 

 Such a determination strikes me when I think about writing because I realize that a location in which I would write my best work would be in a location that I feel truly happy. I haven’t felt this feeling for many places in my life, but I know that if I were to sit down and write, or really do anything that requires engaging all of my brain, this is the place that would have me the most productive and immersed. In my typical writing setting, I write about another place in which I could seek enjoyment and purity. In a place where I have those feelings already, I think about where I am and paint a picture of those feelings through my surroundings. Either way, the location of where I write is always where I want it to be, as I bring myself where I need to be to deliver the best of me to my work. The joy of stepping foot into a place like the one I have described is enough to write many pages about, describing everything my eyes catch as I move onwards. I developed a relationship with this place through fond memories that never fail to recreate themselves and multiply. Through developing relationships with places or ideas, I was able to develop a relationship with writing by using those physical connections as a medium to foster creative ones. Lastly, composing work with ardent tribute to nature grants it some respect and appreciation that it well deserves, which can be hard to express otherwise.

Power of Nature, July 25th, 2008, Canon Powershot A85

Journeys like this one have helped me to find the inspiration to write and enjoy what I write. In my everyday life, when I wasn’t infatuated in my happy place up north, writing became a tire and a bore as nothing kept me interested in it. I couldn’t begin writing something with the intention of doing it for myself rather than to get a “good enough” grade. Discovering my enjoyment of writing for me meant diving into these scenarios which are far off from my reality or are pieces of my reality that didn’t feel real. Writing fictionally, about places I would rather be, lifted the creativity of my work to allow it to be something I was proud of. I had always said high school killed my creativity, due to its straightforward and cookiecutter-like structure. I still believe this to a degree, but it is as well partially attributed to my own distaste in giving effort into the process. Finding the topics I loved to write about and engaging in the critical thinking that my brain is capable of was a monumental step to better myself and my relationship with writing. When college essay season rolled around, I could think of nothing better but to write about the acquisition of my curiosity, which I found through nature and its stories within. Even in a narrative that is supposed to tell an authentic tale about myself, I found ways to tell the story that let me input creativity and abstract thought through the use of fiction. In any scenario I have found myself in, there is a way to incorporate my writing style, and that is what has let me enjoy the writing process I undertake. 

 I’ve found success in my writing, in the sense of enjoying it, by writing about scenarios in which there are some drastic elements of the plot that are seemingly implausible. This can be a setting of which I take extreme effort toward detailing, or it can be a storyline that is hard for the reader to forget. An example of text I read from the past that did a stellar job of recording both of these features was The Odyssey. This epic did wonders with its depth and detail, laying out the story in front of the reader as if it was really there. This reading inspired me to follow along this path of fantastic writing where I can choose to depict the wildest of frameworks and inscribe it within any backstory I so choose. This creative outlet allowed me to find that critical thinking I could never get from the typical busywork I was employed to complete. With this newfound inspiration, I took to filling blank pages with nonsense that only I could imagine, giving life to the paper and my imagination. 

 After devoting my creative mind toward writing I was able to finally make it a process I could enjoy. Taking inspiration from the places I have been and works that I have read, I am able to create something I am proud of with a level of description that activates the reader’s and my own imagination.