Refuge Cove

I am sitting on a fallen tree listening to the waves hit the beach mere feet from where I sit, here at Refuge Cove SRA. Everything is named for a reason, and seeing the beach now, comprised of small strips of rocky beach, I imagine this slice of paradise was named as a refuge for sailors passing through the narrows. The trees likely provided some shelter from the harsh elements when mother nature was wrecking havoc on the early peoples here.

It is chilly here today, only upper 50's and cooler than predicted with a brisk breeze off the cold Pacific. The sun is out for a change, and the warm rays make the cold bearable, almost perfect. This beach is a refuge for me, and a beautiful place to seek refuge from the "city" and listen to the ocean lap lightly against the shore. A father and son are tossing rocks into the water about 100 feet from where I sit, hopefully making a lasting memory. A man with a large, giddy dog is making their way down the steep hill from the parking lot to the shore.

I am reminded that I am on an island, but are surrounded by other islands filled with mountains, nestled here at the bottom of southeast Alaska. The upper elevations of the mountains snuggling up to me on all sides are capped with the latest snowfall, towering over us, majestic and strong. There are two little islands in the middle of the channel that are visible from where I rest, toeing the midpoint between this island and the next, where the airport is located. It is a testament to our friend mother nature as those two islands are jam packed with tall, mature trees, subsisting heartily in the middle of the water. It is a testament to the natural desire of all living things to survive, and thrive regardless of the environment. This can be said of the people who have lived here in Ketchikan today and in days past.

This magical place is my home now, so long as fate allows. Everything in this place is smaller, cleaner and better taken care of than my previous home in Los Angeles, or really, most places I have ever been. I know my little world will change dramatically when the tourists converge, but for now, I will take refuge from my daily life here in this little cove.

Time Is (Not) On My Side

"Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in." ~Henry David Thoreau

Time dictates our everyday lives to a large extent in what we do and when we do it, all in the timeframe of 24 hours per day. Time has moved a bit slower into this part of the world. While this is a contemporary town with at least the basic conveniences, we are very remote. Mail takes many more days here than it did in California, Netflix DVD's take 4 days to get here from Tacoma, WA, jobs for someone with my skill set are few and far between and finding information about places and things to do on the internet is... shall we say, nearly nonexistent? It's quite annoying to me, since I am accustomed to having a large variety of stores available in driving distance (even if traffic was horrible) and a lot of people using craigslist. It just takes a lot of adjustment.

I will feel more adjusted when I start working, getting involved in the community and meeting people. If only that day would come soon... *fingers crossed*

What's all that white stuff on the mountain?

I woke up to a light dusting of snow on the ground this morning, and completely blanketing the mountains. The trees covered with snow up the side of the mountain is amazing, but this is APRIL after all. The trees are budding, and spring is slowly arriving, and then this? Oh well, the sun is out today in little bits so the snow will melt soon. Mother nature is just reminding us that she is in charge here.

Under the Milky Way Tonight (er last night)

As a kid growing up in Wisconsin, my favorite thing to do in the summer was to go out away from the city lights, lie down in the grass and watch the night stars. I am unabashedly and passionately in love with STARS. To quote the song by the Church in the title of this post, I went outside last night and watched the stars, even with some lights around me. Minus the occasional camping trip, I have not really seen stars in a decade. The only problem here is that it is overcast most of the time, so seeing stars are kind of a luxury, as is the aurora borealis (northern lights) which you can see here around the spring and fall equinox.
"And its something quite peculiar/Something that's shimmering and white/ Leads you here despite your destination/Under the milky way tonight."