Deborah Mason

Back to winter issue 2006

These northern Finns, turning large metal screws
into the packed lake ice, simply refuse
to give in to cold weather. Nature has provided
food in every season, enough to be divided
among them all. Berries, reindeer meat and more
already keep the wolf far from the door
but Nature only gives to those who take. These men do
what they can: hunt and fish; work hard at it too.
They’re tough: they can’t be bought or sold.
Not in this wilderness. Furred against the cold,
They’re hunter-gatherers. They screw a hole
down deep through the ice and dole
out bait, then drop a line
and wait for a tug, a sign
of life. Soon a fish is reeled in
and gutted on the ice: a fin
still twitches, though the fish is dead.
More fish follow, until the ice turns red,
Speckled with guts and gore.
It’s been a good haul: better than the day before.
The light is fading now: it’s time to return
for a sauna, let their bodies sweat. They’ll burn
some logs on the hearth, have a beer,
grill some fish, relax. Tomorrow they’ll stay near
the cabin: cut wood, crack ice from the frozen well.
Later they might go skiing on the fell.
They’re happy here. Their office jobs are far away.
It’s not quite time to leave. There’s still another day.

Deborah Mason, who taught English at Helsinki University Language Centre from 1983 to 1998, is now Assistant Director of Oxford University Language Centre.