Aki and I are in the car, waiting for the left turn arrow to turn green so we can drive onto the Douglas Island Bridge. The light standard sways up and down with the wind. It’s one degree above freezing. Snowflakes swirl around the car. Maybe this is not such a good idea, little dog.

Aki whines, like she does every time we approach a trail head. I drive on even though the wind whistles through the car’s ski rack. After I park nAki leaps out of the car, slides a bit on the snow-covered pavement, and is stunned by wind-driven snow. In seconds she climbs over a snow berm and starts down the trail.

MmThe little dog is too busy checking pee mail to notice two ravens huddled together on the path. They ignore us for a bit, then start sashaying away, sweeping their tails back and forth in a 10-centimeter arc. What a couple of brats.

Even though we are tucked away in the Treadwell Woods, we can hear the wind vibrating through the trees and waves hitting the beach. A duet for wind and water. I should stay in the woods, but can’t resist venturing out onto the beach. A single gull sleeps, standing on one leg, near the water line. Through a veil of blowing snow, we can just make out the remains of an avalanche that crashed down the side of Mt. Roberts after the weather warmed.

Last night a skim of ice formed on top of the pond water. Then the tide ebbs, dropping the paper-thin ice onto the Fish Creek trail. It shatters under Aki’s paws as she walks toward the creek mouth. The ice tinkles as it shatters, like a windblown crystal chandelier. The dining room sound is out of place on the icy trail. More expected is the eagle complaints and the shower of fat snowflakes soaking into Aki’s fur. 

            I don’t expect much drama today. It’s low tide so we would have to cross a wide stretch of empty wetland to reach the waters of Fritz Cove. That’s where the ducks hang out and at least two bald eagles. Snow clouds obscure the glacier and surrounding mountains as we near the creek mouth. But, as we turn back to the trailhead, the clouds thin. Weak sunlight strikes the mountains, giving them a pearlescent glow. Then the clouds return. 

This is not going as planned. Aki and I are still in the woods, walking toward Point Louisa. A forty-knot wind is roaring through big spruce and hemlock trees, making them vibrate. The wind agitates Aki, making her jump each time it pins back her ears. It is worse when we leave the woods. 

            Coming off the glacier, the wind rips across the spit, stopping Aki in her tracks. I have to carry her to the little spruce grove at the end of the spit. Instead of resting in the lee of the spruce, the little dog racing over to an exposed clump of beach grass and sniffs. While she checks the Point Louisa pee mail, I lean into the wind to close on the point where a small raft of scouters is weather veining into the wind.