Being Alaska

Alaska.

The 49th State. The Biggest State. The Last Frontier. The Last Great Place.

Refer to it as you will, but for me, Alaska (the arctic, specifically) has been 'home' for the past three summers of my life. With the recognition that I likely will not be returning this year looming in my mind...

Rarely can I escape a conversation about said state without being inundated with questions; questions about bears and icebergs, mosquitoes and bears. Bears and more bears, the 24-hour summer sun and the 24-hour winter darkness.

To the unknowing tourist, these questions seem rational. We are all enamoured by large animals and natural phenomena of which we have no control. Swarms of mosquitoes attacking from all angles sounds harsh, allowing for visions of black skies and death-by-bug scenarios...and therefore interests the simple mind.

But what I fail to hear...what I wish to hear...is what goes unspoken. People care about what they assume Alaska is...what they hear Alaska is. They are motivated by pictures of monstrous bears and lonely caribou, by dreams of prize hunts and big mountains, by thoughts of mountain men and salmon fishing.

But being Alaska is different. It isn't an idea or a picture. It's a feeling.



It's that feeling of knowing that, even though you are different, you still belong. That feeling you get when staring, unbeknownst to the happenings around you, into the nothingness of the Alaskan bush that is so full of...everything.


It's that feeling you get when discovering a lonely animal print. That feeling of wonder; that feeling of fear. Where was it going? Where did it come from? Is it watching me now?

It's the 'sunset'. That oh-so-alive feeling you get when, at 3am, the sun is still visible above you...and you feel as though you can conquer the world.

It's the Spring 're-birth', when life returns to this seemingly desolate place. That smell of life...that crisp feeling...that burst of energy.

It's being witness to a perfect reflection on a remote pond...the sun lightly 'setting' behind you and the clouds, seemingly endless, looming above...drenched in an array of hues...

It's simple living...

And simpler pleasures...like watching the sun cast it's light on an Autumn-colored birch leaf as it sits contently in an Evergreen tree...

It's watching the Autumn colors overtake the hues of Summer...listening as a soft breeze wanders through the valley...and feeling the cool, crisp air summon in the first signs of Winter.

It's watching wildlife...and knowing that they still fear you.

It's that feeling one gets when staring into landscapes that seemingly go forever...and realizing how insignificant we (humans) really are.

It's laying on the tundra, surrounded by ages-old plants and trees--some of the hardiest of hardy species on earth...and wondering what they feel; wondering what stories they could tell; and wishing you could, for just one moment, be like them...

It's watching herds of caribou cross a river in front of you...unknowing of your presence...yet unafraid of your being. Harmless creatures who want nothing more than to survive the harsh winter and make the trip to their calving grounds in the spring. Creatures who have done nothing but be, yet bear the brunt of human stupidity and ignorance.