This afternoon, I stopped on the way to moraine to photograph the sun—the tiny sliver of it that shone between a Douglas Island ridge and cloud cover. Aki, who had waited all morning for an adventure, was not pleased. I stopped anyway. Shy this time of year, the sun may not reappear until the middle of next week.

         On the moraine we see the sun’s reflected beauty bouncing off McGinnis and the other glacial mountains. But it is light filtered through dissipating fog. Near the beaver village, Aki trots onto lake ice made opaque by refrozen snow. Worried that it is too weak to hold up the little dog, I call her back. She gives me that “What’s your problem” look and takes station behind me so I can break a trail for her through the soft, wet snow.