I think I could’ve gotten used to living pretty much anywhere. But because I grew up out in the country, on a farm, and hours away from any major urban centre, I always longed for city life.
I did end up in a city. But it’s way up north. Its numbers have dwindled and it barely meets the parameters of a “city”. It’s nearly a town. In the bush. Two minutes to get anywhere.
Well, except out of town. Winnipeg is the nearest city and it’s seven hundred and forty kilometres away, to the south.
I love living in a forest. I love the clean air, well minus the smoke this summer from the fires nearby. Sometimes I appreciate the remoteness. The fishing is phenomenal.
You can’t be no wimp to live here. We’re tough. It’s winter seven months of the year. Not the kind of winter you see in the movies where the snow is melting on the streets and people wear a little, what we would consider, fall coat. It’s deep deep cold snow. It’s temperatures so frigid, the roads out to communities are made of ice. For months and months. Ice roads.
This city is authentic, unique.
bloom.planted.north 
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