We arrived back in Kuujjuarapik this morning. It was a good flight, with a hearty breakfast, which felt good after my two vodkas disguised in orange juice gulped down at the airport (I don’t like hard liquor, but it certainly takes the edge off my fear of heights).
Unfortunately, this time, my ear pained me greatly. In spite of swallowing, chewing wads of gum and yawning, the left side of my head felt like the worst migraine I’ve ever experienced. It’s not the first time this has happened. It appears to have something to do with the pressure change upon descending.
Out of Montreal, we broke through the cloud barrier to enjoy a clear blue sky, warm liquid sunlight streaming through the window. After three hours, the flight attendant announced that we would be landing shortly.
It was my turn at the window and I anxiously looked out to see familiar sights. I watched as the propeller to my side cut through a thick layer of phlegmy grey fog. After a summer of evergreens in the mountains, golden fields in the prairies, and colourful gardens, the landscape below looked foreign. The brilliant blue tarns in the hills that I remembered looked like mud puddles now. The windswept hills were grey and barren. Were we landing on the moon?
Andy had arranged for a student to pick us up at the airport in his truck. The air was heavy with cold and wet.
As we headed for the truck, a shepherd mix approached anxiously, eyes desperate and pleading, hip bones protruding. I make a quick note that this is not my world, or is it?
It started to rain on our drive home on the muddy dirt road. Large splats hit the windshield. Not quite freezing rain, but another degree drop in temperature, it would be sleet.
I hope the sun shines tomorrow and burns through this heavy grey fog.