Swollen runs of salmon crackling the rivers with their electric arrival, excitement rippling through the banks and boats and beaches, those fishing lowering their nets and poles for the catch and, elsewhere, bald eagles and bears doing much the same.
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| Robert Jansen, one of our Work Camper Extraordinaires, on the Kenai River Bank |
Long stalks of fireweed exploding with bursts of pink's brightest hues, birch leaves thick, wild ferns unfurled into tall kingly fans, moss carpeting the forest in its fairy-tale way, wild blue geraniums shyly emerging out from the green, bushes laden with flowers-now-turning-into-berries.
Lakes fed by mountain streams and underground springs now warmed by summer's touch, perfect for wading into, for catching frogs and minnows, or for taking a canoe or kayak out, right into the very middle and then setting down the oars, shutting eyes to breathe, to listen to the loons, to bask in the deliciousness of the moment.
July in Alaska. What does it mean to you?
To be continued...
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