Monthly Archives: September 2018

Who Will Send The Rain?

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We are going to pay for this sometime. That’s what I’d tell Aki if she wasn’t charging after her Frisbee.  Normally the Rain Forest monsoon season starts in September and continues until the first winter high-pressure system settles over the ice field. But we have only had a few drops of rain since August. Aki doesn’t complain. She lives in the moment and right now the moment is providing her with sunshine.

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The little dog, her other human and I are walking along the southwest shore of Mendenhall Lake. The lake is flat calm, its surface broken only by incoming silver salmon. The sun enhances the yellow of cottonwood leaves and lightens the British racing green color of the surrounding spruce trees.

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For the first time since last spring, Aki slips on ice. Shaded puddles are cover with a thick skim of it. When the sun first touches the beach pebbles, they sparkle with new-formed ice. But in minutes they dull to normal.

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They Are Back

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The birds are back little dog. Looking up from a scent spot that has occupied her attention for the last minute, Aki gives me a “Dah” look.  She might think I am referring to the adult bald eagle that had been feeding a few feet away when we reached the Shaman Island beach. The big bird flew off to a glacier erratic on the other side of Peterson Creek and landed. From that vantage point and safe from poodles, it waits for us to leave so it can return to its feast.

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No Aki, I am not referring to that eagle or the other one roosting nearby. Look there. I point toward the island where a small raft of harlequin ducks are performing the synchronized swimming routine their kind performs when feeding. All summer the harlequins have been hanging out on the outer coast with red-breasted mergansers and the other fish ducks. The little bay has been lonely in their absence.  It’s good to have them back. Closer to the beach, a smaller raft of widgeons have their heads in the water feeding.  These guys must be heading south.

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We passed other signs of fall along the forest trail that we used to get to this beach.  The leaves of wild crabapple trees and blueberry bushes were in high autumn colors. Some of the devil’s club and skunk cabbage were yellowing. And the downy woodpeckers that seem to only appear at the change of seasons, were hammering away at old growth spruce and hemlock trees.

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Italian Light

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We are more than thirty miles away from home. Within a few miles on either side of us, bears are chasing spawning salmon along our favorite hiking trails. Not wanting them to chase the little dog, I chose this walk along the beaches of Bridget Cove. Strong sun makes Aki squint as we walk along the first beach, giving her a skeptical look. Maybe she can’t accept the apparent lack of waterfowl and gulls that normally bounce along the cove’s waters.

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The trail takes us up and over a series of headlands and then across a broad beach. Here a family enjoys a picnic so I put Aki on her leash. Otherwise she will try to make friends with the family’s snarly-sounding dog and beg for food.  We move past the family and through another headland forest before dropping down to our lunch spot—a pocket beach rarely visited by other trail users. Today’s strong north wind is driving lines of waves into the cove that sparkle in the strong light. We could be in Cinque Terra nursing an afternoon expresso if not for the two bickering eagles, the lack of terra cota colored buildings, and the bodies of jelly fish that have grounded themselves on the beach during the last high tide.

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The jellies are compressed wonders. The image of this one could be of a far off nebula captured by the Hubble Telescope.

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Dry Crunch

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Looks like our recent drought is going to deny us a colorful fall, at least along the banks of Gold Creek. The heart-shaped cottonwood trees have gone directly from green to dead brown. Many are covering this little used spur trail. In a normal September, any leaf that falls to the ground turns to soft mush. Today our feet crunch through the recently fallen.

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I try not to worry about our rainless rain forest and just enjoy the noise. Why should the kids in New England have all the fun. Shafts of sunlight enrich the red of a few of the forest’s dogwood leaves. When one of the thirty-mile-an-hour gusts stirs the forest, the dogwood leaves flash their pink undersides.

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Party On

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Looks like the party is over little dog. Aki and I just crossed Fish Creek , which now appears to be empty of salmon. No eagles roost in creek side trees. We can’t even spot the pair of squabbling ravens that usually patrol the creek’s gravel bars.

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The kingfisher that guards the pond is still here. When it spots us, the little bird flies off to give the alarm. It is time, I think, for the land to go to rest for winter. Then two silver salmon, sides spawning-red, leap about the surface of the pond.  An eagle screams. The party is still on.

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The eagle doesn’t bother Aki. She stares at the water as if willing the salmon to jump again. When they don’t she trots around the pond to where the trail climbs onto a low dike. There, a great blue heron surprises both of us by flying out of a nearby tree and settling onto the limb of a spruce just twenty feet away.

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Aki seems glued to the spot on the trail where she first spotted the heron. When I call her she looks in the big bird’s direction as if to say, are you crazy, that thing is ten times my size. I could tell her that the heron hunts small fish, not small dogs. But from past experience I know that she won’t move. I’ll have to carry her to the perceived safety of the woods.

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Aki Wins

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Aki charges ahead on a side slope trail through the woods. But she agrees to wait with some impatience, when I am slowed by the narrower bits, especially those that form the lip of a precipice. I could be mad at the little dog. We are only on this bluff trail along the lower Mendenhall River because she had refused to walk any further on the flat beach path.

 

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We had to pass through an old growth forest to reach the beach. The little dog threw on the brakes just after we left the woods. Our presence had scared off a large raft of mallards that had sheltered during the night on a nearby side channel.  Maybe the ducks’ noisy exit spooked my poodle-mix.  As I carried Aki down the beach, more ducks and some shore birds panicked into flight. With my arms full, I could only watch them move out of the camera range.

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Only one eagle watched us pass from the very top of a spruce tree. When I set Aki down so I could photograph the big bird it looked down with what appeared to be distain.  Picking up the recalcitrant pooch, I carried her past the eagle tree and around the rocky outcropping that blocks beach passage when the tide is high. More mallards and a large cloud of gulls flew off.

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To give the little dog and the birds a break, I brought Aki to the edge of the woods where a steep path leads to a trail made by those who needed to access the beach at high tide.  The trail passes through a weird sculpture garden of eagle trees, mushroom covered stumps, and boulders wrapped in the snake-like roots of trees that had grown up over them. Aki didn’t mind walking under eagle trees or stepping over white splats of their guano or the feathers they shed while taking flight.

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Fireweed

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We just said goodbye to two of other’s humans at the airport. They will be back in a few months. Now we are on a trail that traces the outline of the runway. It’s noisy with jets and prop planes taking off and landing. Some of the prop planes have floats that allow for water take offs and landings. One of these is just lifting off from the floatplane lake, carrying mail and passengers to one of the rain forest villages without a runway.

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The ebb tide has reduced the river and exposed large sand bars. An adult bald eagle lands on one of these. It starts to head over to a dark object and then stops, acting like a burglar afraid of being caught in the act. It freezes until we move, starts again and then stops when we stop. After a minute of this the eagle slow walks over to the dark spot, which turns out to be a fish, wraps in its talons, and slowly lifts skyward.

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All the trailside fireweed plants have gone to seed. Most of their seed down still clings to their stalks, ready to ride on the next strong wind. While I try to take a picture of the white down complimenting the red and orange fireweed leaves, Aki tears down the trail after another of her humans. Then she turns and runs full speed back to me. Sometimes all four of her tiny feet are off the ground.

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Greeters and Watchers

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Aki has dragged two humans along with her on this walk to Nugget Falls. It’s too early in the day for the sun to illuminate the falls. Random shafts of light do reach the glacier and the top of Mt. McGinnis. A trickle of retreating tourists pass us as we near the falls. They all smile. Some are happy to see an animated stuffed animal trot up to them. Others are excited by have been so close to the falls. Many are thrilled to have seen a mountain goat.

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We spot the goat in seconds. It is relaxing on a rocky bench on the other side of the falls. Like Aki does when she wants to rest while on watch, the goat keeps its head up, hams and chest on the rock, and its front legs stretched out toward us. It seems a very ungoat-like pose. While I watch the goat watch me, Aki bullets across a large sand bar to check out three cruise ship tourists who stand near the water’s edge. She then visits everyone else on the sand bar before returning to her humans.

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Aki Gets Her Walks

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Aki wasn’t pouting yesterday when her humans returned from a whale watch trip. She expressed excitement, not consternation as we opened the front door. As promised, I took her on a proper walk through the troll woods. Wind rattled the yellowing cottonwood leaves, ripping a few from their home tree. But no breeze rippled the waters of Moraine Lake to spoil the reflection of Mt. McGinnis.

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This afternoon we head out to the end of the road as a small craft advisory kept fishing boats off the water. The little dog has three humans today to herd. She gets us safely across a muskeg meadow and then down onto a breach. It’s high tide. Water almost covers the beach gravel. Aki trots along the bordering beach grass, avoiding surf surging over the gravel. After her humans sit on the beach, Aki settles by my side, enjoying the way the sun warms her tight, gray curls.

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Girl Scouts and Whales

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It’s 7:30 in the morning. Aki has had barely enough time to wake up. We are taking a short walk through the neighborhood. The little dog needs to relieve herself before her humans leave for a whale watching adventure. She takes her time, stalling over scent left last night by our local black bear. Aki knows what is in store for her and she is not happy. As her humans are walking out the door, the little poodle-mix hears me promise a proper walk later in the day. She shrugs and sulks into her kennel home.

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The whale watch boat leaves Auk Bay with a load of girl scouts aboard. It bounces into Saginaw Channel and over to Barlow Cove where we see our first humpback whale. The young women scream and dash around the top deck, letting their pony tails stream flag-like behind them. They cheer when the boat digs into oncoming waves. They scream and point each time the whale announces that it has surfaced by expelling a plume from its lungs.

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The up and down motion of the boat makes it difficult to photograph any of the whales we will see on this trip. After managing to secure one or two decent tail shots I sling the camera over my shoulder and just enjoy the show: the excited children energized by wind and waves, clownish Stellar sea lions, and diving whales.

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