“Nunaqatiga takuuk!” Ceporah called up the hillside to me. Neighbour, look! The two of us have been cabin neighbours for more than a decade; this past September, we went out on a berry-picking expedition about twenty-five kilometres from Iqaluit. I was obsessed with picking the ruby-red lingonberries bejewelling the land behind our cabins, while she had decided to comb the beach below us. Ceporah held up a bright-orange oblong buoy—the kind we use as fenders for our boats.
“Uaaik! Nanitsiasimasatit!” I called back down to her. Wow! What a great find. We love to watch for useful debris along the shores—driftwood, rope, anything possibly reusable.
