Billie Wright and her husband Sam live in the Brooks Mountain Range of Alaska 100 miles north of the Arctic Circle and this is her seasonal journal -- a vigorous no-nonsense account certainly better than most. Mrs. Wright is not one to mull over the universe neath the midnight sun or lecture the city-bound human race on deportment. Although she writes handily of such matters as the Northern lights, a confrontation with a wolf, and appreciation of seasonal changes, she is concerned mainly with the day-to-day business of survival in an isolated wilderness -- hunting, wood gathering, preparing meat and skins, holing-in for a storm, etc. Along the way she arrives at some innovative views of the wilderness of life. For example, cabin fever -- ""The cabin is not a refuge from the world around it. . .but is a natural extension of the world outside it. . .wilderness is an intensely nonpublic world."" And chores: ""Here there is no separation between work and nonwork. . .being without a goal is not being in a vacuum. It is being."" But as a warning to those who would opt for this life without the skills, Mrs. Wright emphasizes the dangers of ignorance and carelessness. Like all who lead a rich life in the wilderness, she anticipates but dreads intrusions: ""Go seek. . .your own. . .place and time of joy. It may still be there, if you hurry. . . .