Aki and I are beach walking in front of the old Tlingit village where October storms had cut deep wound-like channels from the grass fringe to the water. Aki disappeared from site when she crossed them. This month’s autumnal tides have healed most of the gashes.

A trio of grebes plop one and a time from under the surface of the bay. Their white feathers glisten when hit by shafts of sunlight. Until now, the little dog and I have been walking in a gray world. The sun has finally broken through the clouds smothering the Chilkat Mountains.

Like the tides, winter sunlight can repair some of the day-to-day damage of rain forest life. I don’t need such help today. Aki’s other human and I have just returned from Hawaii. But I think I can detect a little improvement in the little dog’s mood.