Settlers Bay

I can remember sitting on a plane eight months ago, leaving the Anchorage airport and thinking I would never visit Alaska again. It had been a once in a lifetime trip and I couldn't imagine what reason, how or when I would possibly return. I keep forgetting how unpredictable life is. So here I am, 5,000 miles from home back in the state of Alaska. While Alaska gets a bum rap for being dark and cold much of the year, that has not been the case either time I have visited. Today it's in the 60s, the sky is clear and the sun is out for 15 hours a day. This is both warmer weather and more sun than my home state of Connecticut. This small loop became my daily routine while on this visit. The rural stereotype of Alaska is not the case in this area of Wasilla, countless cars zoom by and every inch of land is crammed with houses in this all-american subdivision. Nothing about this walk is meditative, that is until you look up. Settlers Bay is one of the many communities that sits in this mountain basin, with its ring of majestic towers high above goes on as far as the eye can see. They serve as a silent reminder of how very far from home I am and how futile the idea of the "foreseeable future" actually is .

The Mudflats

At home, my backyard is, well, a paved parking lot that borders the local phone company headquarters. If you walk a few miles through my neighborhood you will actually find yourself in the middle of an international airport. Today I took a walk through a slightly different backyard. Our walk was cut short by flooding, though as you can see, not all of us were detoured by the water. A week ago, I left an area that was experiencing record levels of heat and drought. Now, I find myself half a world away in an area that is in the middle of a record-breaking streak of continuous days of rain. It is 70 degrees, sunny and everything is a lush green from all the rain. This weather is everything that summer was not on the east coast. Here, the backyard leads to a trail down to the mudflats. The flooding from the Knik Arm below the Chugach Range lends some explanation as to how this old WWII boat might have made it this far inland. Once again, I am on a walk that is impacted by water - what a fascinating barrier...