 Colony of Walrus Cape Newenham Alaska Nov 21, 2024 The day is slowly waking. Mountains lay silhouetted against an emerging muted blue. A half moon graces the morning sky. I hear the soft lapping of the Bering Sea as its water ebbs and flows along the shore here at the Cape. The Brook that crashes its way down the hillside is no longer audible when I pull up to the Weather Station - for a beautiful icy pattern’s silenced its song for the season. I sit in the warmth and quiet of the Observation Station where I’m keeping watch on weather patterns and disseminating to the pilots that fly in today. Large windows open my view in North, East and Southerly directions; the vista is mesmerizing. Across the sea, from where I sit, snow draped mountains reflect the early light. I am not yet able to see the sun’s golden orb, but soon I’ll watch its rising as it makes its way up over the craggy mountains behind our camp. Sleeping on our beach, just below the Weather Station, is a colony of walrus. I slip my boots off, rest my feet on the desk and watch as dark heads bob in the cove. I decide to drive down to the beach and take a picture or two. I attempt a sleuth approach toward the lookout but the walrus startle at my presence and rush for the water. Steam rises on the cold morning air as they grunt and groan and push and waddle in their panic. They climb on top of and fuss at one another and oddly, instead of making a beeline toward the ocean, they funnel in behind their leads in their escape. Off to the side, away from the herd, lay unmoving two walrus snuggled together. Long after the others flee, these two slowly pad and grunt their way to the waters edge. Gratitude fills my heart for this peaceful start to my long work day. I celebrate both my birthday and Thanksgiving here in remote Alaska where I work at Cape Newenham. I confess, yesterday I battled a case of the grumps in spite of all the birthday wishes and love sent to me by the people I love. I grumbled to a couple close friends who listened and encouraged and lovingly reminded me of the value and power of a grateful heart. In sixty-one years of living, life rarely unfolds as I envision, but when I maintain a grateful perspective and let loose expectations not serving me well, I see . . . with greater clarify that life richly supplies all that I truly need and I see that this gloriously messy life . . . is good.
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AuthorAs a young adult, I believed there to be a point of arrival; a place where internal struggles with fear or anger or confusion give way to assurance and appropriate displays of passion and clarity of thought and direction. Where striving with relationships transform into understanding and acceptance and the propensity to self-protect shifts to trust and confident vulnerability. However, to my dismay, I was startled to learn, through a friend in her 80s, my perception was most definitely a misconception. Archives
June 2025
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