The sun was setting over the tundra, painting the frosted hills a vibrant purple and softening the ugly edges of the huts at their foot. The traveler stared down at the rickety houses made of corrugated steel and plywood, and then looked over at the caribou herd, safe behind their protective fence.

As she watched, the sun caught the snow at just the right angle to erupt in a flare of light. The huts and fence vanished amid the glare, and for a moment it was as if they had never been there at all, as if when God knelt to make the earth, he had left this place completely new, utterly untouched, forever.