The Fish Creek Pond offers little for the eye on this soft February morning. Years ago a mother and child drown here on a colder February day. The boy and his friend walked out onto the ice while she watched from the beach, an infant son in her arms. When the ice broke the mother faced Sofie’s choice. She choose to rescue her older boy, leaving the infant swaddled on the snow covered beach. The mother and child died but the infant lives.
A light snow softens the man made hardness of Fish Creek Pond. Its’ black and white loveliness, crowned with his overcast sky threatens to bring more melancholy. Aki and I escape into the old growth woods bordering the east of the pond and are reminded of why we live in Juneau.
Here are big spruce and Hemlock trees that have fed for decades on spent salmon. Aki dashes about reading the rich smells left by a passing deer. A week stream of sun forces its way through clouds to light electric green moss jacketing the trees. As if responding to my emotional upswing two song birds (Varied Thrust?) sing to each other high in the canopy. It’s as old as the Biblical psalms but joy after sorrow is still sweet.