Solitude: “the state of being or living alone, seclusion; remoteness from habitation; absence of human activity, a lonely, unfrequented place”.

This describes my life right now. I live in solitude at a wilderness resort set on a remote lake in the middle of the South Chilcotin Mountains in British Columbia. The resort is now closed, and I am totally alone.

Well, I am not completely alone, it’s more like I am “unaccompanied”. My nearest neighbour is 10 kilometres away, and the closest community is a 45 minute drive with a whopping population of 44. The log cabin in which I live has no phone, only an internet connection. While I am alone, I am not lonely. I have had such an enormously busy life that I truly embrace this time to reflect and to appreciate the beauty of nature.

So, when the first snow of the season arrived, I was genuinely pleased to experience this cyclical transformation to whiteness. I was also genuinely surprised at how this snowfall provided a backdrop to the solitude that I had been feeling during the days of fall.

I had already noticed the steady march of the snow-line up and down the mountains around me. I knew that it would only be a matter of time before the ground became covered with white. Then, one morning I woke up to a snowy silent stillness.

Awestruck is the best word to describe my reaction to the incredible vista to which I awoke. True to my desires, I immersed myself in a sunrise hike, absorbing the fresh air and enjoying snowy foliage.  A deep and peaceful calm enveloped me as I stepped silently into the new snow.

First light. Fresh snow. New day. Great life. I am so grateful that I seized the opportunity to live my dream of being close to nature.

To experience first snow in total solitude – this will not be forgotten.

“Why do we put off living the way we want to live, as if we have all the time in the world?  ~ Barbara de Angelis