For approximately three and a half to four months I am privileged enough to live, and work, on a remote Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge located in the Kodiak Archipelago. The island is home to Kodiak Bears, Elk, Deer, Otter, Ermine, Fox, Squirrels, Eagles, and a plethora of migratory avian, but I’m not here for these. I’m here for the Salmon. The aforementioned is a life perk.
From mid to late may salmon begin to return to their birth regions to continue the cycle of life through spawning. I’m fortunate enough to be employed in a field that allows me to observe this fascinating epoch with continued amazement; the repetitiveness never detracting from awe and wonder.
As I play witness to the slow color change of silver bullets, whizzing through the water with purpose intent. I can’t help but feel a sense of awe. These fish slowly, over the course of weeks, fill the waterways with vibrant hues of burgundys, pinks, and reds, creating refractions a diamond would envy. Just as summers transition to fall, the color of creations farewell sings on hues of all the salmon, even if only faintly. Then, like a northern wind blowing the change of season, they fall. The waterways, streaming with remnants of life’s beauty, provide free delight to many with an apatite. The sly fox and the forthright grizzly have no need to quarrel for enough is provided. Even the Eagle, with its domineering personality, seen in steely eyes of unwavering, fierce squawks, finds the need for hostility absent. All is balanced; a thanksgiving feast.
The entire process, spanning months, gives witness to the emerging bounty of natures delight. Morels come with the first fireweed shoots (Alaskan asparagus) and fiddleheads as the salmon swim silver. Although brief, there is plenty to go around. As the spring onion fades and broad, leafy greens take hold, a new forage begins. Curly Dock, Dandelion, Plantain, and Lambs Quarters cool the pallet with fresh crispness; flowers of a rose add a gift of tender sweetness. Now the salmon swim darker, a burgundy purple dance. As the seed starts to form the sweetest of desires is realized. Berrys make a triumphant return. The blueberries, dripping with morning dew, invite gratitudes reception while the salmonberries decide their color (red or orange). The watermelon berries hang like water droplets clinging to flowery petals, sharing their song with the world. And high above, the cloud berries sway with the elusive rarity of twilights kiss. The salmon, now red with fatigue, share their gift of life with all who wish to see.
There are no roads, no gas stations, no grocery stores, no cell phone reception, no internet, no cars, no sprawling metropolis of concrete, no smog filled clouds hanging like a slow poison in a snow globe, slowly suffocating the inhabitants, and there are no people. Only nature in its natural state, giving the gift of creation. So to Creation, I say, “thank you”.
“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.” ~Edward Abbey
RighteouslyUnscripted 