Alaska.
You can hardly think of all saying that word signifies, but all of them are good. You always take an exhaled breath to say it. Maybe it’s because the air is so clear here. Maybe because we’re clear here.
I can’t find a bad view anywhere I look. I’ve always very much liked to take pictures, mostly of my little ones growing up, but now am working with landscapes and there is not. One. Bad. Picture. And, as with anything, you will never see the same exact image the same, just the difference of an angle can change everything, a shadow on a cloud.
The residents are warm and welcoming, but they’ll want you to prove yourselves…just watch and see. They’re very helpful to you, just out of the goodness of their hearts, truly. If such and such is a shady place, they’ll warn you. And that’s super helpful to two brand new “out of towners.” You don’t hear about anyone’s exes, ‘cuz they all got left in the Lower 48. There is little to no drama, which is a welcome change.
I, at one time around Christmas had told my husband it felt like the “land of the misfit toys.” I still believe that to some extent, there’s just such a wide array of people here. Different income brackets, strongly different political, vastly different sexual orientations and a very real homeless population, yet here we all were.
The tourists here range from 18-senior citizens, it’s not a big party destination, but there’s an awful lot that goes down, too. There are several places you can catch live bands, DJ’s or even karaoke on a Wednesday night. There are a lot of seasonal workers that come work the boats and such, so the vibe in the summer is more mid-20’s, out partying after work. But not on the streets, like Nashville or New Orleans, it’s just not that kind of place. This is the place where you get off the plane or boat and you take a deep breath. You hold it in as you take in the first white tipped mountain you see, and that, my friend, is Alaska.
We’ve met people from France, Russia, England and Italy…the wide vast of people’s origins never ceases to amaze me.
This is the place you’ll see the almost turquoise glacier and remember vaguely about what all those smart people talked about global warming, and it hits home. The big waterfall to the right is like the cherry on a sundae, perfectly breathtaking. This is the place where you’re so close to the sun, you can go from white to medium rare in a half hour, thankfully one of our neighbors had told me that in advance.
This is the first place I’d seen a whale, out in its element. I’d only first seen the ocean in Washington state a month or so before coming here. There were eagles, for I’d thought the most majestic of birds, everywhere. When they sat on the lampposts between downtown and the valley, I called them the “Guardians of Juneau,” even though we all knew they were swarming near the dump. We’d seen sealions, otter, different types of fish and our favorite, crabs. Every once in a while, we’d see a sign for someone selling crab off the docks, and we’re all about the crab legs.
The seasonals from Phoenix are friendly, for the most part. I could use any southern states here, but I’ve met an awful lot from Phoenix, Arizona. They have a home in each place and are here to enjoy it while they’re here. They leave it nicer than they found it, so it’s a nice little slice of our population.
We were doing it. I mean our schedules aren’t ideal, but we were making it work. Enjoying a nice drive on a sunny day yielded a chance of fishing, lettings our dogs run on a secluded beach and maybe soon, having a fire on the beach. It was daylight nearly 24 hours, it was always light out. It didn’t bother my sleep schedule one bit, though. There had been challenges, there are every day. I still just couldn’t believe it, that we had this opportunity, that we MADE this opportunity in Alaska.
