Chant du monde boréal
Sandshifter, 60N.
Where it all makes sense.



Through Chronicles from Arcania, I shall attempt to share walks with you, this poetics from 60N, where I feel at one with our Earth, my sense of place so maritime.

Wednesday, 3 March 2010


Wherever I lay eyes on earth, they fall on tracks left in the snow...
All is mindless, invisible.
Every footstep sinks inside white, where wanderers dream of waders, without thinking what the world means to those who lose sight inside dust...

Have you ever accepted to lose yourself on a hillside and follow prints other creatures signed with their paws, hooves or tallons? On a day trip with two fellow photographers, we came across a catalogue of signatures - sheep, arctic hares, rabbits, corvids, oystercatchers, curlews, redshanks. Even in harshest conditions, the world tells us it is alive!
Water may freeze - food become scarce... We, earth dwellers still find a way in resilience to the unknown. Field mice congregate with starlings at my friend's barn to feed before dusk fills our sky. Survival hangs in the balance.

And then I dream of southern shore, where my twin soul on 30S hides from that greatest scorching star! 

Voyage through the realm of the Southern Garden


I need to walk about,
to dream and be invincible,
follow your footsteps all around,
tarmac so incomprehensible we’ll wander through never-never
and find our way through earthly songs,
iris of the rainbow serpent.

I love to walk about,
to dream and feel invisible,
listen to stories underground,
and learn songlines so magical to reach that ridge where we belong,
every child’s wish, elemental, where campfires burn forever
and life throws at death boomerangs.

Join me on Walkabout,
to dream and grow inseparable,
paint my face all around, cover my body with charcoal,
move like a bird on this homeground, as long as I can hear your song…
Contemplate eyes of the lizard,
iris of our connectedness.

© Nat Hall 2009


  1. Wow .. polarities indeed, and we are waiting, waiting for rain.

  2. I hope it comes soon to you, Sarah (although not in flood as in Queensland/NSW - freak fllods on scorched land acts as grease in a frying pan...) - gentle and generous enough to quench earth's thirst :)