The Yukon


The Yukon Territory
Canada
Winter bites hard this far north. On this stretch of the Klondike Highway, temperatures hit –35°C. The camera froze. So did I. But when the light arrived — faint, blue, and low — it painted the valley in stillness. Not silence, though. You can hear your heartbeat up here.
Frozen Tributary
Central Yukon
Beneath the surface: glacial tones and ancient flow. Above: sky the colour of steel. This quiet fork of river, deep in the Yukon interior, held its form like glass — unmoving, untouched. Light shifts fast out here, and fingers go numb faster. You shoot, or you miss it.



Outskirts of Carmacks
No signal. No sound. Just the crunch of snow under boots and a view that makes you forget your name. The cabins scattered through this frozen basin have stood longer than most cities. The Yukon isn’t just remote — it’s unshaken by time.
Yukon Riverbank
Whitehorse
The cold here is personal. It finds you. It tests you. This riverbank, where the water runs glass-clear over ancient stones, was the last frame I took before the sun slipped behind the ridge. I didn’t see it again for 18 hours.
