By Jack Steward
We were dropped off at the foot of the mighty Arrigetch Peaks above the Arctic Circle in Alaska. The plane disappeared into the void and our team began to walk through the tundra.
The scent of autumn crept into my nostrils and I could almost feel the breath of winter infiltrating the mountains. The leaves crinkled under my feet, expelling a captivating aroma. I was caught in the grip of overwhelming nostalgia.
This peculiar sensation drew me into a reflective state as I recalled the days of two-hand touch, hay rides and apple cider. I was once again ensnared by autumn's enchanted spell. The familiar was found on foreign ground.
A delightful paradox.