There is an apocalyptic feel to this fireweed meadow. The dead stalks retain some beauty thanks to the seed down that still clings to them. But I wonder why the white feathery down hasn’t been carried off in our recent strong winds. Is this a sign? Because she lives in the moment, Aki is never surprised by the things I find surprising. She doesn’t care that the Mendenhall River has eaten away at the meadow and undercut the trail we normally take.