Things Are...

My life keeps flowing up here in Alaska. It's a different day, same thing most days. The things that are normal are exceedingly uneventful but when events happen I'm afraid my skills as a writer are lacking to explain them. I don't think any word in any language could describe how I see these few things that catch me. Blaack bear mothers and cubs. Standing no more than eight feet from a moose mother and baby with only the option of walking past calmly with my weedwacker. It almost seems normal to see them but they are still captivating.

Going camping this weekend. looking forward to it. Hope I don't get attacked by bears; hope if I do I give 'em hell. I'll be doing some more fishing and also be doing a goodly deal of basic hiking.

It seems interesting that I'm acclimating so well yet there are these indescribable things. I wouldn't do them justice to try to spell it out, these sights. What can I say? A picture doesn't say enough. You have to be there.

Alaska is a wild wonderland with human inhabitants. Humans aren't on the top of the food chain up here, they're not even close. The Last Frontier truly is still wild. The City of Anchorage can't even be considered a big city, a tenth the population of the Portland Metro; and Anchorage's city limits are orders of magnitude larger. Moose will walk through properties I work at like they own the place and ya know, they really do. This is their home, not ours. We, as the human race, just ty to push in where we can. People still die from moose, bears and wolves every year up here and, half the time, there's either nothing they could have done, they were unprapared or stupid.

Man walked out of a community center a year or so back, I heard first night I was here, stepped outside and was immediately stomped to death because he couldn't have seen the mother moose and baby moose around the sharop corner. Comes out two feet in front of them; game over.
Nature still rules this place and it saved the pretty stuff for up here. When I come back down I'll be home again but I will feel a primal emptiness in my hindbrain. Something of me will stay behind here, of what I cannot yet know,