Denali National Park was proof of concept - with snowy massifs separated by infinitely wide valleys, patchworks of colour packed with beasts of legend, it was all what Alaska was supposed to be. Our tour guide cum bus driver Jen, a fellow New Englander from New Hampshire who worked summers here provided us with the stories to accompany our immersion. When she wasn’t speaking, the female half of a middle-aged Latin American couple was quite vocal in letting the other half know why she was sure taking this bus to Eielson Visitor Centre was a bad idea. Maybe it was to distract himself that the harried half turned his focus outside and spotted them. On a slope at the edge of our vision, three shapes – one large, two small. Bears! Grizzly bears! Mother and cubs. Running up the slope and glissading down the spring melt snow. Binoculars to my eyes, I could see them laugh the bear laugh, giggle the bear giggle. So much fun, so much tenderness, so much warmth. Love. Contagious. In the bus too, amends were being made. Erstwhile complainant was now repeatedly embracing erstwhile accused. “Good job, honey, good job!”
[Part of the Series: Notes from the Last Frontier]
No comments:
Post a Comment