We're into the heart of the summer. Today it is sunny after a month of rain (in June), yesterday was a day of heavy, strong, fast, wind and cold. But today, the sun and the mountain are out, I'm wearing shorts, and (joy of joys) the mosquitos are starting to taper off.
My job is running smoothly, and the details that tripped me up in June are now mastered, allowing my shifts to move more quickly and efficiently. The other day, I was heading into the main lodge to clean. On my back was the back-pack vac, which I call the bakpakvak, and a co-worker looked at the various tubes and hoses and cords and asked, "Heading back to the mother ship?"
And that, friends, is what I do. My shifts are intense, the work is physical, and the days move along swiftly. On the first day off in July, I walked to the south end of Wonder Lake, a round-trip distance of about ten miles. The early flowers have faded, and now we have lupine, larkspur, asters, and others whose names are new to me. I met a couple along the way; they hailed from Connecticut and wore appropriate Red Sox hat and t-shirt. We talked and swapped picture-taking at Reflection Pond, I walked on and ate my lunch at a benchmark on a small knoll, and then walked back to camp. Along the way the road grader driver and I traded laughing comments.
My world is both broad and limited here. The community is small and the landscape large. But the news from the world at large rarely penetrates past the Savage River checkpoint. We hear of the wolf den at Toklat River, the Golden Eagle nesting site at Polychrome Pass, about moose sitings, bear habitats, blueberries that are actually blue, and that seems to satisfy my current events needs. For now.
So if you don't hear from me regularly, just think of me out here at the far end of the Park Road, rapt and wrapped in my details of the natural landscape!
My job is running smoothly, and the details that tripped me up in June are now mastered, allowing my shifts to move more quickly and efficiently. The other day, I was heading into the main lodge to clean. On my back was the back-pack vac, which I call the bakpakvak, and a co-worker looked at the various tubes and hoses and cords and asked, "Heading back to the mother ship?"
And that, friends, is what I do. My shifts are intense, the work is physical, and the days move along swiftly. On the first day off in July, I walked to the south end of Wonder Lake, a round-trip distance of about ten miles. The early flowers have faded, and now we have lupine, larkspur, asters, and others whose names are new to me. I met a couple along the way; they hailed from Connecticut and wore appropriate Red Sox hat and t-shirt. We talked and swapped picture-taking at Reflection Pond, I walked on and ate my lunch at a benchmark on a small knoll, and then walked back to camp. Along the way the road grader driver and I traded laughing comments.
My world is both broad and limited here. The community is small and the landscape large. But the news from the world at large rarely penetrates past the Savage River checkpoint. We hear of the wolf den at Toklat River, the Golden Eagle nesting site at Polychrome Pass, about moose sitings, bear habitats, blueberries that are actually blue, and that seems to satisfy my current events needs. For now.
So if you don't hear from me regularly, just think of me out here at the far end of the Park Road, rapt and wrapped in my details of the natural landscape!
A pity, indeed, that your access to electronic sources is so limited! I just found this for the first time, and the writing is just superb! (Not that I expected much else.... ;) ) Should I fill you in on the vestiges of the lower 48? Naaaah.... Why would you be in the least bit fascinated, what with the cornucopia of visual delights that feasts you daily! Thanks for sending this onward...Carry on, O pioneer, again for the first time!
ReplyDeleteThe Guy in 706