I should be in the North Pass making a last try for silver salmon. But a strong low-pressure system moved over the fishing grounds last night bringing high winds that keep the captain’s boat tied up at the dock. This pleases Aki, who trots across the forest floor on a walk that would never have happened if the fishing trip had.

The strong winds have blown a hole in the marine layer so sunlight floods the forest and makes a large devil’s club leaf shine like a sheet of stained glass. The hole lasts until we reach the beach, where gulls, murlets, and mergansers shelter close to shore. I look up Lynn Canal, past a brilliantly lit Shaman Island to places where we would be fishing on a calmer day.