Northland News
November 2001
Dear Friends and Colleagues:
Perhaps it's a little late in the season to thinking about this as the "autumn" issue, but so much happened in our country during September and October that my mind hasn't yet caught up.
Speaking of those events, in Alaska, one of the strangest sensations for me was the days in which all aircraft were grounded. So much of life in Alaska functions because of aircraft. Oh, it wasn't so much the large jetliners whose absence I noticed. It was the small Bush planes, the little "puddle jumpers" that are usually constantly trudging through the sky, over the Chugach Mountains to the east of where I live in Eagle River, ferrying mail and sportsmen and people who live in outlying communities frequently unreachable except by air (or dogsled or snowmachine in the winter). The missing sounds of Bush planes somehow brought the nation's plight into local reality for me.
Changing Seasons
Yes, it's winter now up here. In fact, it's been winter since about October 12, when the first eight inches of snow fell . . . and didn't melt shortly thereafter. In fact, the temperature has averaged 22 degrees for more than a month. We got a second heavy snowfall near the beginning of November, adding about 12 more inches to the accumulation. There's something healing about the smooth cover of snow. It hides a multitude of "sins": fallen leaves, dead or dying wildflowers, and even roadside litter.
But we did have an autumn, albeit short and intense. Shortly after my friends Dave and Norm visited at the end of September, the mountainsides had turned gold as aspen and birch took on fall foliage, while the underbrush had turned brilliant scarlet. The fireweed had fluffed out at the ends, an annual harbinger of fall, while Norm and Dave were still here. They did a lot of hiking in the Chugach Mountains, and their pictures show the changes in color as they occurred first at higher altitudes.
Houseguests
With my houseguests, I made the delightful drive again to Seward. Along Turnagain Arm, we were treated to several pods of white beluga whales. In Seward, in addition to hiking up to Exit Glacier (part of Kenai Fjords National Park), we visited the Sea Life Center. There we got close up views of Steller sea lions, sea otters, puffins, pigeon guillemots, starfish, and octopus. I think I could have spent several more hours watching the small octopus learning to unscrew the cap on a jar, with holes in the lid, that had been placed in his tank. Fascinating! I didn't realize octopi had that type of intelligence.
Going north, Norm, Dave, and I also visited the musk ox farm near Palmer. Musk ox are straight out of the ice age! Amazing creatures, so big and clumsy looking, yet their undercoats, called qiviut, are regularly combed and spun into the softest yarn imaginable. This is, in turn, sent out to Native knitters in various villages across the state to be turned into caps and scarves, etc. A garment made of qiviut is, pound for pound, warmer than any wool or cashmere or similar product. Durable, too; I still have the cap that used to belong to my mother, making it about 25-30 years old and still warm and soft.
Backyard Birds
The one problem with the somewhat early snow this year was that when it was time to put oiled black sunflower seeds back out in the bird feeders, we had to wait because many bears were still not in hibernation. Bears just love sunflower seeds and will help demolish a porch or patio or balcony to get at them. One of my bird feeders is on my balcony, and getting to that balcony is most easily done by climbing on top of the hot tub, and I don't think the hot tub cover could have withstood the weight of a black or brown bear!
The bird feeders are filled now, and I have black-capped chickadees, plus some boreal chickadees with brown heads, red-breasted nuthatches, and a few juncos. I'm still waiting for the pine grosbeaks and redpolls to make an appearance. A couple of magpies are hanging around the area, but they don't eat from the feeders. There's a squirrel, however, who cleans up what the birds spill under the feeder in the tree outside my office window. He's kinda fun to watch as he almost does a headstand while chasing a seed down into the soft snow. Another thing the early snows brought was an influx of moose to town. After the rut in September, most of the moose move back into the mountains until the calves are due to be born in the spring. But when the snows are heavy in the mountains, they will come into town where chomping on young trees and bushes in people's yards is easier. Unfortunately, they do most of their moving around near dawn and dusk . . . resulting in moose-car interactions that don't bode well for either.
Other Wildlife
One morning, when I drove down the Glenn Highway from Eagle River to Anchorage and got off the highway at Boniface Parkway, the traffic suddenly came to a standstill on the overpass. Seems a pair of young yearling moose were taking their time meandering across the road. Even though it sometimes messes up a tight schedule, I like the idea of living in a place where wildlife is an integral part of everyday life . . . and human animals have to make way for other species.
I also like hearing the geese flying overhead heading south as winter approaches. Many times I've gone to bed and been lulled to sleep with their plaintive cries as they vee southward. The other winter gathering of birds is the ravens. Ravens are really quite fascinating. It's no wonder they fit into many Alaska Native tales of the creation, or with Raven as the trickster. Living here in Eagle River, I can watch them gather each evening into flocks of 20 or so birds and then fly together back up the river into the mountains to wherever (and nobody really knows) they roost for the night.
Winter Scenes
Now that we have a good snow covering, the nights are not as dark. I suppose that sounds strange when one considers that our nights are lengthening, until December 21. But the snow reflects back whatever ambient light is available, rather than absorbing it as the darker, uncovered ground would. And when there is a moon, it is actually bright enough to cast shadows on the snow. I love the white on white of snow on birch trunks, augmented eerily by the black and whiteness of snow and moon shadows.
Despite the average temperature over the past month, today the temperatures are above freezing and things are melting. Oh, I don't expect all the snow to melt before it freezes up again, but it's probably just as well I've got some sort of plague, because I don't particularly enjoy driving on the slushy or icy streets. I'll just stay inside and watch the birds at the feeder and pet warm, fuzzy cats now and then.
Speaking of cats, I decided Purrna needed to check out snow, so I tossed her out on the back deck a while back. Talk about injured looks! She avoided me for the next half hour while she regained her composure cat-style: a good long bath. Kapika, on the other hand, has taken poorly to snow. She was just getting to the point where she enjoyed spending time outside and now this! For several weeks, she still went to the door, waiting for me to open it so she could go out. Well, out wasn't very far. Just far enough to find out "outside" had changed dramatically and was no longer quite so inviting. I wonder how many years it will take before she gets it that this will happen each winter, but that spring and summer will return eventually.
Meanwhile, autumn quickly turned to winter in Alaska, and I am tucked snugly in my home, delighting in being a freelancer who can stay in PJs while I work if I wish. I usually only go to town (Anchorage) once or twice a week to meet with clients or do errands. The "hermit" in me is very happy to stay out here in Eagle River, among the trees and the wildlife.
Professional Endeavors
Right now, I am working (freelance) on several major projects for the Alaska Department of Fish & Game, where I worked full-time until last May. One of the projects is to develop an "annual report" for the Division of Wildlife Conservation. Another is editing and preparing for publication a research assessment about Kenai Peninsula brown bears. I have also been contracted to do the final work on the Kodiak Archipelago Brown Bear Conservation and Management Plan, and this will take me to Kodiak again the first week of December.
Beyond those projects, I also write an "artist profile" column for a quarterly magazine published in California and expect to see my article on Kodiak Island in Alaska Airlines inflight magazine in February. I have some more ideas to propose to the latter publication, a magazine for which I used to write quite a bit. I also have some things going to write for Alaska magazine, so I am doing more writing again, whereas for a number of years, I was mostly editing. One more fun things coming up: I applied for a grant from the Alaska Conservation Foundation (and it looks like I'll get it) to write a series of radio sports about watchable wildlife. I'm looking forward to getting back into writing for broadcast media as well as print media.
Well, it's 3 p.m., and the sun is beginning its descent for the day (although it takes it quite a while to complete that), so I think I'll put on my boots and jacket and trudge to the end of the driveway (almost 1/4 mile) and get the paper. It's been a pleasure sharing "my" Alaska with you on the Outside.
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