Silver Bay


Yesterday, Aki was whimpering under an airline seat. The airplane took the little dog and her two humans to Sitka, on the outer coast of South East Alaska. Today, she appears to have forgotten the traumatic twenty-minute flight. We walk on a causeway that links a series of small islands in Silver Bay. Most of the place’s original wildness has been tamed away by carpenters and landscapers. But it’s early summer here and the house owners years ago planted rhododendrons that are now flowering. When no boat is passing, we can hear the hermit thrush’s song and small waves dying on the rocks.2

Just offshore schools of dolly varden char worry salmon smolt into panicked balls. Some of the smolt leap in the air in an effort to escape the hunters. The pure, intense morning light overwhelms my digital camera. But the thing manages to photograph a large, green glass ball that someone us using as a float for their anchor line. These glass balls were once common as kelp in the fishing industry. Now you only find them in high-end tourist shops and museums. I am glad to see the owner of this one dedicated it to its intended use.1

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