The northern landscapes fascinate the viewer, whether in summer or winter. A mixture of cold but saturated colors in the dim rays of the sun, which always tends to go down, makes them ascetic and magical. The caribou herds enjoy this splendor from season to season as they watch the green, moist hillsides covered with sparkling white snow. However, such a change in the landscape means much more for them than for any human being, to which nature is more static.
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Caribou unmistakably determine the moment when it is necessary to set off on another long journey, which is as familiar to them as to migratory birds. With the first signs of a change of season, the herd rushes north as an indispensable condition for survival in the cyclical nature of life. They will overcome many hundreds of kilometers along the beaten path to find shelter and food (“Caribou,” n.d.). Although the northern landscape seems monotonous, with endless hills stretching as a satin ribbon, caribou will never get lost. Side by side, within a large herd, they will stretch one after another like an endless rumbling river. They will rush along the northern hills and plains, migrating from the northern refuge to the southern one, constantly repeating their route.
During such periods, everything around is filled with the loud clatter of hooves and the endless roar of restless caribou. No creature dares to cross their path, which they protect and cherish for generations. They are alone for many kilometers around, a living river that gives energy to the northern area. Caribou fill the lifeless hills with a sudden stream of life that sweeps like a hurricane and leaves behind only paths that will never be abandoned forever. They will return the same route with the change of season, still racing loudly through familiar landscapes.
Caribou. (n.d.). National Geographic. Web.