Another day of low clouds, mild temperatures and rain. Such conditions never dampens Aki’s love of the North Douglas forest trails to the beach, For me, it is a day for hearing, not seeing special things. The jackhammer .rhythm of a sapsucker provides a pace. Overhead, just above the canopy, the leader of a line of geese gives a single honk. We startle a small raft of mallards and they burst up from an opening in ice made by a stream flow into a muskeg pond. They are gone before I can see more than their characteristic wing pattern. On the beach, when we are just abeam of Shaman Island, I hear a splash like a child makes by tossing a large rock into a pond. Near the island a bald eagle, talon deep in the ocean, struggles to free itself from the water. Two other eagles cry and circle around the scene. The partially submerged eagle manages to fly off but without anything in its talons to show for it. I think of the men and women on nearby False Outer Point, who also fish in the rain for king salmon.