bone cross
Originally posted November 3, 2007
I keep seeing new things in places as I walk around. This is a bone tied to a stick with a ribbon. Other than that, I don’t know what it is. The hillside above Dawson is marked by the passage of many people. The town now ends at 8th Avenue, but during the gold rush there used to be 9th and 10th Avenues. You can still see little platforms dug into the hillside, and bits of rusted this and that. It is astonishing to imagine living through a Yukon winter in a tent. In the old pictures there was not a tree left anywhere near here, so all the firewood had to be carted in from somewhere else.
A couple of days ago out at the dredge ponds a friend was talking about the fox that lived near her house and I said, I want to see the fox. We walked around but, except for footprints, there was no sign of it. Later that evening, back at my place in town, I happened to look out the window just as a silver fox trotted down the street. A shiver ran through me. Thank you, I said. Thank you for letting me see you.
