An eagle just flew past the living room window. It soared and dipped over the trees and disappeared. While I often see eagles out in the mountains I rarely see them so close to town, so this was a special treat. Wish I could have gotten a photo but sometimes it’s nice to simply sit and enjoy these brief gifts.
Other news: Check out the “wild” Alaska ramblings on Carl Brush’s Writer Working site, a nice little essay about why I chose Anchorage as the setting for Dolls Behaving Badly. (Thanks so much for the plug, Carl!)
Writing the piece got me to thinking of my ties to Alaska. Often during the winter I despair. I’m not a cold weather person and I miss the mountains. I miss running in the mountains, and while I do run through the winter, the footing is slick and unpredictable and I don’t get the same feel of gliding through the woods, no one else around, and all of that silence.
Yet the summers make up for all of that. The long days, the silver twilight, the expansive feeling of hiking or running down a mountain at midnight. And this:
Oh, Alaska, what you do to me!