Northern Lake Trout | Walking in a Land of Giants

One million steps wouldn't scratch the surface of the land we love to roam. A frozen world where ice hangs like tusks of a walrus from cliffs high above, the horizons so distant they meld into nothing more than a canvas for light. For days we walk like two needles in a haystack, lost in the wide open, heat oozing from our stove pipe melting like lava into the orange glow that wraps our dusk and dawn. Under snowshoe we feel them, their movements reverberating through the moaning ice, a liquid world where deep water souls do roam, grandparents of the lake, keepers of a time before mine. We can't know these places in one day or one night, it takes time and patience to get it just right. Life is spent so much running around and around, yet here we are on a lake as the world spins us round. By the moon we pass, near the sun we go, until late that night its just us and the moonlights glow. When dreams drift us far, it's back to this place we flow, the land where we sleep above what's so deep below. If theres one thing we know, and on this idea we can grow, that in a land of giants, it's best to move slow. These are the moments we live for, just a few of them, for the truth is, we live for every moment, every day. Thank you to the path that put us there, and here, and everywhere, we live for the search. IG: https://www.instagram.com/davidjackson__/ IG: https://www.instagram.com/exploreleahjackson/