It's a mid-November morning in sub-Arctic Canada, my alarm wakes me. The thermometer is reading -30c air temperature, colder still with the biting wind. Rare clear sky conditions are forecast so I layer up and get outside.
I left camp and climbed the watchtower, scanning for polar bears. They often "bed down" in extremely windy conditions and I want to make sure I won't stumble into any. The coast is clear.
Light begins to fill the atmosphere but I'm without my subject: the Arctic fox. I follow frozen footprints to dead ends and scan around with my binoculars but nothing. Then, as if by magic, she appeared.
With golden reeds blowing in the wind behind her, the Arctic fox stood above me o...