The Forest of Stories
Wilderness whups ass. No one is exempt. Ice cracks. Frozen lakes overflow. Bears charge down steep slopes. An inflatable raft springs a leak. A critical box of supplies gets left behind. WTF: where are the matches? Predators large and small are afoot. As are swarms of the most bloodthirsty of all: mosquitoes and no-see-ems. Weather doesn’t care about your flapping rain-fly or your groundcloth pooling with water.
The Advent of a Writer Elkhound
Thora muses while I tap away on the keyboard As I grapple with ideas for a developing story my Norwegian Elkhound pup, Thora, gnaws on a non-rawhide chew and occasionally gives chase to a new idea. Elkhounds are an ancient breed with fur the color of spilled ink: ...
Breakup Ephemera
Breakup in Alaska occurs when the temperatures rise and ice-bound rivers and lakes began to break apart. Water begins to flow. When we lived along the Yentna River I recall standing outside listening to the sounds of breakup: icicles dripping from eaves, soft snow sloughing from spruce boughs, slabs of ice groaning and grinding, and the sound of ice crashing against ice. The entire river carried the sound of spring in its cold current. That sound of ice breaking free always reminded me of a vast dinner party – of china cups settling onto china saucers, of ice sloshing in tall glasses, and of thousands of pieces of silverware striking cup rims and dinner plates.