Back from Sitka


Back from Sitka. Picked up Aki from a friend’s house last night and returned to Chicken Ridge surprised at what a few sunny days can do for the garden. The lilac blossoms have popped open and even the conservative apple tree leafed out.


Aki would have like part of our visit to Sitka—the hanging out with our friends’ two dogs and the walks we took with them each day.


She wouldn’t have noticed the changing sky, capable in three days of emptying itself self of clouds then giving into to a Pacific front that brought, rain, Turner skies, and rainbows.


She would have moved with caution under eagles roosting on hemlock trees or the cross tower of St. Michael’s Cathedral.


Aki would have had nothing to do with the brown bears that played in the huge red liquor tanks of the now-abandoned pulp mill.

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