The majesty of the bald eagle seemed lost to me. Out on a fishing boat in Ninelchek, they squabbled like crows over bits and pieces from the catch. Alaska deadened my sense of wonder in ways I hadn’t thought possible. Here I was, comparing bald eagles with crows. Driving down the Kenai Peninsula in Alaskan seclusion, drinking in the blues of the ocean, Captain Cook was a name that came up quite often. Once a spotless hero, the realities of his ‘exploration’ had long dawned on me but only for today, he was given a free pass. Volcanoes covered with snow met the eyes, steaming in unpredictable rage, across channels with the deepest tides known in the world. Viewpoints that would need words to be invented and ensure instant empathy with anyone who chose to give up everything just so they could settle in Alaska. I sat there gazing out into the Pacific, watching a lone baldie regain some respect for its kind, soaring alone against the backdrop of mountains wild. This experience which may not be a true representation of everything Alaska was still enough to keep me pinching punching myself. Yes, it was true. Yes, I was here.
[Part of the Series: Notes from the Last Frontier]
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