Southeast Alaska sails into spring at a breakneck pace as daylight reaches double digit differences within a week’s time. The cold waters below the brightening sky fill with fish returning from their winter sojourns as locals head outside to prep well-composted beds and summit melting mountain passes. It is the place I now sit miles away from, but I close my eyes and I can hear the water and smell the sea brine and if I am lucky my skin pricks with the remembrance of spouting whales and calling ravens. Continue reading
The water came up quick and close as we seemed to skim just over top of it before landing on the really, really short air strip. It was January and as the wind started blowing cold down south, I found myself hopping a plane, and then three more for an island…the island of Sitka, Alaska. This spot in southeast Alaska has a harbor of calm waters and a string of towering snow capped mountains. The day I arrived the air was filled with fog and rain. It was quite a shock to look out two days later and see huge mountains flying straight up. I could talk for pages about the weather–the wind, the rain, the stunning sunsets over the water–but it is the nature created in part by the weather that has enveloped and grounded me while simultaneously lifting me up.
But first: How come Alaska? Continue reading
After entering the east entrance of Yellowstone and watching my car thermostat plummet from 44 in Cody to 23 somewhere way above Yellowstone Lake, I wasn’t quite sure I was up for the next bend in the road. The bend offered up a Bison in the adjoining lane. Lumbering along he made his way as though in England, driving on the opposite side of the road. I slowed, dropped my jaw, and then cautiously preceded.