the raven

Tap, tap, tap. What is that sound? Knock, knock, knock. I lift my sleepy head to see Jinx frozen, peering over the edge of the loft. Tap, tap, tap. Okay, okay I’m coming. After stumbling down the ladder, I make it to the front door. Jinx leaps to the fridge, fixated on something outside. Strange, I do not see anyone at the door. Knock, knock, knock. Looking toward the noise, I see the culprit; a raven pecking at the frozen fish on my doorstep! I chuckle. Oh well, at least I am up early, thanks Mr. Raven.

All the things I hope to achieve today begin surfacing. I debate hiding under my blanket on the couch for a little nap, when my eyes shift to the sky. Wow! I grab my camera, bundle up and head to the river’s edge. The colors and texture of the sunrise were stunning and standing there in the chilly morning, with the sounds of nature took my breath away. 

Walking back to my cabin, I thought about how much I love this. I love living in my cabin, on the raging Kasilof River. Working at the café, and meeting new people has been a blast. I’ve uncomplicated my mind a bit and stopped stressing about useless things. I am learning how to not dwell on my mistakes and be so quick forget my successes. I quit setting high and unrealistic standards for myself based on what I observed other people doing. 

I love that I did not know that spruce trees, as cute and spindly as they are do not make great Christmas trees. Or that one day it is 20 below and the thought of walking outside without my parka, gloves, and boots to pre-start my car burns my skin. Then just days later snow is pouring over my boot tops, and I am sweating from shoveling two feet of snow to make way to my car because it is Christmas and I have places to be.

I love how proud I was that I did not fall on the glare ice that sits between where I park my car and my cabin door because it’s been raining for almost two weeks, and rain freezes when it falls on snow and makes ice. And then today it snowed covering up the ice and I did fall, three times, flat on my back.

I miss my family and friends, doing ski patrol on Wednesday’s, baby sitting and driving around Spokane in the '72 super beetle. I wish I could share with everyone how cute my cat is when she plays fetch or jumps to my shoulder to hang out. Or if I say, "hey dude! what’s goin' on?" she replies with a  meow. 

I wish I could bring you all into these incredible moments I experience. But that is how life is, I suppose. We each experience life, sometimes with ones we care about and sometimes we just have to suck it up, experience them and try to find ways of sharing.

a night time story

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Driving home from Soldotna Friday night I was fiddling with the radio, trying to expand my music repertoire beyond my favorite playlist titled, “recently added songs that I like.” I went through a variety of stations, hip hop, classic country, Russian, oldies but was having difficultly finding something that fit my mood. I slowly forgot about the music, wandering into my thoughts and the starry sky.

The drive to Kasilof was nice with so few lights, the crisp pitch-black night and a sky doused in vibrant silver flecks of light. As much as I admire the moon, it was nice to see the full brightness of the stars shining, with out interruption. I was in awe of nature once again, trying to figure out a way to capture everything that moment encompassed. All of a sudden, something in the east caught my eye, distracting me from my thoughts. There is not usually light in that direction, as Soldotna was north of me. Then my heart started racing as I realized what it might be. I immediately pulled over, turned the car off and stepped outside to get a better look. And there they were dancing above me, the northern lights!  I don’t know how long I stood there in awe of natures light display. This is not the first time I’ve seen them, but I was giddy as all could be.

Sometimes I wonder why I am so madly, and undeniably in love with nature. How it is one of the few things that gets my heart racing, and also makes me feel so serene, inspired and simply grateful. I often stare out the window at work longing to be on the beach watching the sky painting itself with the colors of the setting sun. Or on the mornings when I drive through the magical mist, trying to imagine anything more beautiful. Nature is so pure. Every minute of every hour of every day, nature does what she’s intended to do, her very best. It reminds me of this quote: The sun, with all those planets revolving around it, and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes like it has nothing else in the universe to do:: Galileo.

mi casa es tu casa

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The lodge is winding down and life has moved into a new phase. This transition started out rocky as the end of one job, led into the beginning of another and I felt the weight of my future looming over every decision I made. After much debating and figuring out my goals, I decided to get my own place and stay in Alaska through the spring. I moved into a little cabin on the Kasilof River and am working at a café. Aside from drawing, reading, writing and simply enjoying myself, I am saving up to study Nutrition Therapy.

The past month life has seemed to find a way of being very timely. Once I made my decision to stay the winter in Alaska, I was offered a job, found a place to live and I might even have a car that will make it through the winter. I was also lucky enough to have my parents here to help me with the move and settling into my cabin.  

 

The first week on my own was surprisingly nice. The excitement of home making and having a place of my own that I've been craving for so long kept me distracted. I like the process of enjoying each of my days. I take pleasure in nature, solitude, independence and freedom to make decisions on my own. I read when I want to read, paint when I want to paint and can eat peanut butter and jelly on toast every morning for breakfast. If I don’t want to wash the pan right away, I don’t!

With a new home, and living alone, I have been reflecting on how fortunate I am to have met so many incredible people who were patient enough to love me and take me into to their home. Their generosity is humbling, and inspiring. Even though this cabin is small, I hope to pay it forward. I'm not just talking about with a bed to sleep in, but with kindness and hospitality. So, really, what I am saying is if anyone wants to visit Alaska… I have a futon waiting for you!

fish tales

Whew! That is both a sigh of satisfaction and a release of a deep breath. Two weeks ago I said goodbye to Shane, Eva and Kristen who were up visiting, and a hello to my parents who were just arriving. The visit with my friends was wonderful and timely. I was ready for some fun, after a summer of living and working in the same place. Having my parents here got me out and reminded me of why I love Alaska, and that there is something so special about family, especially mine.

I have a story for this entry and it begins with a question. When you think of Alaska, what comes to mind? Vast wilderness, mountains, maybe if you are talking with someone you'll be mentioning the winter darkness, fishing, mosquito's and cold... So, in honor of these topics, I had hopes that a fishing adventure would pan out while my parents were here. And it did! So here is a fish tale:

In the days leading up the fishing adventure we tried to glean as much information from friends as we could, about how and where to fish for silvers. We acquired the gear we needed, and we were off to conquer the Kenai! The fishing started out quite humorously, whether it was loosing lures to the bottom of the river, or in midair because the fishing line was so old it couldn't handle the weight of the lure being cast. Anyway, once the lure situation was under control, we began catching spawned out pinks, that were nasty, decaying and needed to be thrown back.

In the middle of the pink fiasco, I hooked a silver and boy was that fun! Except for my complete lack of knowledge on how to reel it in. I went all out, my pole was bowed, the fish was jumping and I was reeling in like a mad woman. My intensity was a little too extreme, and WHAM! the fish got away. I was a little bummed but mom, being the wise soul she is, consoled me with, "Audra, that's how you learn. Now you'll be able to bring in the next one."

Getting back in the water, I tried to not be dishearten by the lost fish and carried on. Since I was the only one with waders on, when a fish was caught I would have to run down the metal grates, grab the short little net and hop into the river. I was getting tired of passing my pole off to mom, running down the grates with the net to throw back yet another pink. So, by the fourth time Dad cried fish, I was a bit skeptical.

When he shouted, "Audra! Audra! The net! I've got a fish!" I dubiously trotted over, hopped in the river and got a hold of the fish. That was when we realized:

1. it wasn't nasty
2. it didn't look like a pink
3. we needed pliers to get the hook out.

The excitement danced around us as I stood in the river with the fish in the net. Never having fished for silvers before, I had no idea what type of fish was hooked the line. My parents not having fished in Alaska before, were even more clueless. We threw out a few odd guesses hoping the fish would speak up and clarify our confusion. Dad ran up to the house to get pliers and bring Penny down thinking she would know what a silver looked like. After what seemed like hours of waiting, he came back with pliers, and Penny. When we asked her about the fish, her response was, "You are asking the wrong person." We debated for awhile, then decided if nothing else it was a fish, and we should keep it.

Then came the dispute on who would bat and bleed the fish. Mom was automatically disqualified from the argument due to a broken hand. That left dad and I. I lost. I sucked it up and did the job that had to be done. It didn't come naturally, but after the fourth fish I was beginning to catch on. We cleaned up the fish and headed back to the lodge and found out that the fish we caught were indeed silvers.

So, all in all my parents were able to get an Alaskan experience. Fishing in the cold wilderness and were even able to walk away with a few bug bites. That just leaves the winter darkness and they'll just about be Alaskans!

needs and wants

I hit the snooze button for the last time and I jump out of bed. It’s early and cold in my cardboard box room. Luckily, it's light enough outside I don't have a need to turn the light on. As I put on my sweatshirt, I wonder if anyone will notice this is the third day in a row I’ve worn these clothes breakfast. Nothing beats an over-sized sweatshirt you can melt into on a chilly Alaskan morning, especially, when my mind is still asleep and my body is moving.The less I have to think about the better.

Ah, it’s a bittersweet experience as I sneak out of the staff quarters, tromping through the large chunks of gravel to the lodge. I pause for a moment to take in the sounds of waves breaking on the beach and birds chirping excitedly. A smile spreads across my face and I cannot help feeling joy.

About a month ago, I relocated to work at a fishing lodge in a little town called Happy Valley. It’s about 45 minutes south of Soldotna and the only real claim to anything this town has, is the Happy Valley Bar, the convenience/liquor store, and my personal favorite- a waterfall on the beach! It is more of a pit stop than a town.

You may or may not have heard, but the fishing in Alaska this year has not been great. Fish and Game completely shut down fishing for Kings (salmon) which has been a huge blow to the tourism industry. Because of this, the owners of the lodge decided to house a survey crew for an oil and gas company instead of lure in fishing clients.

This is not what I expected I would be doing, however, I am enjoying the change of pace from the brewery and I am thrilled to be here. My days are relatively laid back and usually include an assortment of cooking, house keeping, agate hunting, reading and/or taking longs walks on the beach. The stress is minimal and my two co-workers and I do a fantastic job at keeping each other on our toes with quick wit and sarcasm. 

On the sunny, clear days it’s easy to stay awake long enough to watch the sun set over the across the inlet. The simplicity of this lifestyle has helped unravel the complicated web of my mind. Small things like rock skipping contests or watching Otter Pop lazily float back and forth in front of the lodge completely fill me with knowing... yes, this is exactly where I need and want to be.