Chasing Northern Lights in chilly Yukon

In Canada's western most territory, winter is an invitation to move at an unhurried pace and commune with white expanses

- Anita Rao Kashi

As the flight lands at Whitehorse, the capital of Canada’s western most territory Yukon, it is difficult not to be struck by the winter light. It is soft and gentle, exuding a warmth that has nothing to do with temperature. Despite a thick blanket of snow all around, the low angle of the sun ensures it is neither sharp nor harsh.

Once outside the plane, frigid air hits immediately. Breath and words promptly turn into plumes of smoky droplets.

Viewed on a flat atlas, Yukon feels like it is almost at the end of the world. So, I arrive into Whitehorse expecting icy wilderness. But despite the subzero temperature, the city exudes warmth.

For a capital, it is small: just 28,000 people call it home, and the eponymous Main Street stretches for only six blocks. But cafés and stores are warmly lit and most buildings have cheery colourful facades. You see people going in and out of stores, greeting each other, and stopping for conversations mostly during the five-six hours when sunlight appears.

About 30 minutes outside of Whitehorse, the Yukon Wildlife Preserve is a sprawling wilderness home to more than a dozen native species, such as lynx, moose, caribou, bison, mule deer and fox.

The preserve is partially covered in snow and even though it is sunny, walking here feels like too much effort. So, I join a motley crowd for a guided tour in a heated bus.

The 90-minute tour follows a 5km loop and we see plenty of wildlife while a staffer offers a constant flow of information and insight about the preserve, its history, the animals and the local environment.

THE COMPANY OF STARS