Wordless Wednesday...A Chance to Remember That There Is Still Beauty In The World

I promised positive images and stories until the conclusion of the American shitshow. I am finding suitable distractions more and more difficult to come by given how saturated the media coverage has been. Thank God for a seven game World Series. A friend remarked this morning that he wished it could be best of eleven so that it would get us through Tuesday.

In any case, this image comes from our recent trip to Alaska. The excitement I felt seeing these graceful creatures in their natural homes was immeasureable. We humans don't always do coexistence well. Alaskans are a gigantic leap ahead in that regard.

Note: I have decided to blog through November as the mood suits. There will be photos, recipes, and music just as in other years, but the stories will be organic and not pressured. I seem to work better that way. If I manage 30 in 30, great. If not, also great. I promise that there will be enough content for all. Thanks to all who support this space. I look forward to a month of interactions. 

Some Random Thoughts

We have been at sea since yesterday, so I thought that I'd use the time to reflect on some scattered thoughts about this wondrous trip so far. These are presented in no particular order, and if they seem somewhat incoherent it is because I am heavily medicated due to a slightly rocky ocean. No baseball caps have be thus far necessary, but I am keeping it close at hand. 

• As we sailed through the incredibly calm and majestic waters of Glacier Bay yesterday, I couldn't help but revel in the beauty and I yearned for a closer and more personal view. I have several friends who kayak as a hobby, and one in particular has been trying to get me into a boat for years. For a variety of reasons; cold, wet, potentially choppy waters, I have consistently found reasons to avoid the experience. Yesterday, as I saw kayakers smoothly paddle towards the mouth of the glaciers, I couldn't help but feel envious. I could only imagine the joy of coming face to face with a sea lion or sea otter, or even being in the near presence of an orca pod. If my friend is still willing to coach a rookie, I might have to give kayaking a try. (But only on clam flat water and not in near freezing temperatures. I'm still me after all.)

• We have had many discussions during our weekly Torah study as to the sentience of beings other than humans. And while science is still split on how various animals think and feel, I have always believed that there is real emotion and intellectual brilliance in that world, especially amongst higher order mammals. The whales, dolphins, porpoises, seals, and otters we have viewed in their natural homes throughout this trip have just reinforced that notion for me. These are socially advanced creatures with a strong need to nurture, maintain family bonds, and communicate. Watching an eagle carefully feed her young in a nest high above the confines of my earth, only further demonstrates to me that we are at our most arrogant when we pretend that animals are here for the sole purpose to serve us. Now, I am certainly not advocating for everybody to suddenly stop eating meat, but I am most definitely suggesting that a more mindful way of thinking about how we use animal products in our everyday existences would go a long way towards an environmentally sustainable way of life. We share this planet, we don't rule it. 

• If you have the opportunity, you must travel. It doesn't matter how you do it or where you choose to go, but staying home should never be the only option. There is a world outside your front door. Open it. Explore your neighbourhoods and then your cities or towns. Walk, hike, bike, bus, drive, boat...just get out there and greet the world. You can stay local or go exotic, rural or urban. It can be inexpensive or first class, it matters not. Just reach beyond the parochialism of your safety zone and see something new. All of our world views could use some expansion. This is a trip I honestly never thought we would take. The chilling temperatures up here are definitely not in my comfort zone of the tropics. How I would have missed out had I not ventured beyond the comfortable. 

• One final point...and it is an important piece of advice. Never ever ever get between cruising Americans and their path to the buffet. We have been elbowed, stepped on, crushed, and nearly trampled. I am trying not to assign national labels to such behaviour, but my anecdotal experience on this particular ship has been that this is an exclusively American issue. Be on the lookout for the Stars and Stripes while online for food. 

That's all for now. Tomorrow we are in Whittier and then we fly south from Anchorage to Seattle. See you again from Washington State. 

Today in Skagway

If today was just another day from this magnificent vacation north, I might have written about our Jeep trip and off-roading adventure from Skagway, through White Pass, back over the Canadian border, and on up to Carcross Yukon following in the footsteps of those afflicted with gold fever as they headed towards the Klondike. 

If today was just another day, I would give a silly recounting of our numerous Jeep mishaps and how we had to leave one vehicle abandoned by the side of the road due to electrical issues, and how another leaked water through the roof and had the "check engine" light on for the entirety of the trip. (Insert Big Bang Theory joke here.)

If today was just another day, I might wax poetic about the craziness of our off-road drive up the side of a mountain and how my bony little butt is an ill-equipped shock absorber.

I might go on to regale you with stories from our time in Skagway; about the rich history of this sleepy little town, and how they have kept the legends of the gold miners alive with tales of booze, broads, and gambling. 

I would show you beautiful photographs taken by The Husband and me that, despite their perfection, still cannot adequately capture the glory of this land.

But...

Today clearly wasn't  just another day. Today has been tainted by the horrific news out of Orlando and it feels somewhat off-putting to write frivolously. 

Today...I stood near the top of the world and realized how far away the hate felt from up there. I let the distance engulf me and I allowed myself to be swept up in its peace. Today...I remembered those lost as I let beauty wash away ugliness. And today...I desperately wished for a return to frivolity and silliness.

Zichronam Livracha...May their memories always be for blessing.

Our Disappearing Glaciers

The Talmud tells the story of The scholar Choni. As Choni is walking one day, he comes across an old man planting a carob tree.

"How long will it be until the tree bears fruit?" asks Choni.

"Seventy years or more," answers the old man.

"Are you so healthy and well that you expect to live long enough to see the fruits of your labours?" Choni asks.

"I found a world full of fruit because my ancestors planted it for me and so I am planting for my children." 

Psalm 24 tells us that "The earth is Adonai's and the fullness thereof." It should follow that needless and wanton destruction of that which God has created should be considered a grave offense. Judasim calls this concept bal tashchit meaning do not destroy. 

We are but caretakers of this earth and it is our responsibility to maintain a holy creation. So it pained me today to see a tangible symbol of how we have shirked our stewardship. 

We made our way from Juneau through the rain and fog to the Mendenhall Glacier. The glacier is about 12 miles in length, a half mile wide, and anywhere from 300 to 1800 feet deep. The visuals of this massive blue/white ice field cascading down into the mouth of Mendenhall Lake is breathtaking and just a bit awe-inspiring. But, as we hiked the trails into the park to get a better vantage point, it struck me that this was incredibly sad. The rock on both sides of the ice field are clearly visible and it is obvious how much the glacier has receded in recent years. Several years ago when we travelled Newfoundland, I remember thinking that while the icebergs we saw were magnificent, there was something very disturbing about how prolific they were. Now I fully understand that discomfort.

I had a chat with one of the park rangers and she showed us a time lapse image of the glacier's recession in only the past 8 years. The results were frightening and heartbreaking. The field is shrinking by almost 650 feet per year and the estimates are that by the year 2100, sixty percent of the glacier will have melted. If that is not evidence of climate change, I'm not certain what is.

It is incumbent upon all of us to accept the responsibility of care for this planet. We must all be like the old man from whom Choni learned. We must be the solution, not part of the problem. 

The Eagle Has Landed

"I am the eagle, I live in high country. In rocky cathedrals, that reach to the sky. I am the hawk and there's blood on my feathers, but time is still turning they soon will be dry. And all those who see me and all who believe in me, share in the freedom I feel when I fly."~John Denver The Eagle and The Hawk

I have been to some of the finest galleries and museums in the world. I have been incredibly privileged to see works of art by Da Vinci, Monet, Michelangelo, and Picasso up close and personal, and I have reveled in the beauty and the artistry. But all of it pales in comparison for me to seeing wildlife in their natural habitats. The photos, paintings, and poetic descriptions simply cannot adequately do justice to the sight of a bald eagle in flight or a sea lion basking on the rocks with her pups. 

Those were just a few of the spectacular visions we were privy to today in Ketchikan, our first port in Alaska. Once again blessed with outstanding weather, we boarded a small vessel in order to fully capture the natural beauty of the southern part of the state. Armed with my fleece, earmuffs, scarf, and gloves, we were almost immediately treated to eagles, immature and mature, as well as eaglets high up still nesting. My emotions swelled to the point that I just could not help myself from humming a John Denver melody. I am fairly certain that I understand him and his music much better today. I could have gone to sleep happy right then and there, but more was still to come.

As we came around the back side of the Ward lighthouse, we were gifted with the joyous sight of sea lions fishing and several pups sunning themselves on the rocky islands. According to our guide, Captain Obvious, (dressed exactly for the part) there are humpback whales in these parts, but even my begging and pleading couldn't coax them to the surface. But that is the unpredictability of nature and I will accept the flakiness of that whale any day, if I could once again experience the loftiness I felt when witnessing that eagle take flight. I almost didn't mind the cold.

**Photo credit to my heart, Barry Bernstein

On the Waters to Alaska

We have been on several cruises but never one that has seen the water as clear and smooth as glass as this one has been so far. I almost hesitated writing that sentence for fear that the motion-sickness gods would be angered and strike me down with a raging case of heaving and vertigo without offering me a hat for a remedy. (My closest friends will understand the reference.) But, the northern waters of British Columbia have offered some stunning vistas and the weather, while appropriately chilling, has been clear and given us some sparkling views.

It is unusual that I would write about a sea day. Usually these are down times limited to reading and overeating, but there is much to observe from the ship today and I must say that if one is thinking about traveling in this direction, seeing it from the balcony of a boat might just offer some of nature's finest spectacles. As we pass through Alert Bay, Johnstone Strait, and Robson Bight, we may just spit some Orca pods and view some eagles circling. This area has been dubbed the Orca Highway and is key on their migration path.

But here's the thing. While I am hopeful of experiencing that childish giddiness that I felt a few days ago, I am not in the least bit greedy. If they seem to grace us with their presence, I will happily spend hours, minutes, or even seconds watching and wishing them well. If not, well....I can honestly thank them for the gift bequeathed me. Keep you all posted. 

One last thing for this lazy day. Happy Anniversary to us. Like Baskin and Robbins we are celebrating 31'derful years, flavours, and adventures. Here's to the next 31 and beyond to my heart, my touchstone, my source of aggravation, my smartest critic, and my biggest fan. A'int nothing like the real thing, baby. 

** The interweb is quite hinky here. I will try and add a photo later. So sorry. 

Our Pacific Coast Procrastination

How does a Type A, list-making, ubër-organized, and overly methodical middle-aged woman successfully procrastinate the massive amounts of cleaning and purging still necessary in order to successfully facilitate a summer move without suffering from massive amounts of self-immolating guilt?

By taking off for Alaska, of course.

There is method to the madness.

You see, here's my theory.

If I travel far enough away from the mounds of still-to-be-completed tasks on my to-do list, I can happily reside in a fantasy world of my own creation whereupon my return, the packing faeries and rainbow-coloured relocation unicorns will have magically occupied the house and taken over all remaining tasks in anticipation of our August deadline. It may sound immature and irresponsible, but please indulge my world of make-believe. It is all that seems to be holding me together right now.

And so....

Tomorrow we embark on our latest adventure, or as I have taken to calling it, "Our Pacific Coast Procrastination." The bags are packed, the camera is charged, and the anti-emetics are safely within reach. (This trip will see us board a myriad of planes, automobiles, ferries, buses, cruise ships, and possibly a train or tram. I place the odds of projectile vomiting at even-money.) We will be travelling through a variety of temperatures and frankly I feel I deserve high props for not escaping to the safety and coziness of tropical climes. Ok. It won't be sub-Arctic, but it is June and I am going to a land of rapidly-melting glaciers. (This space does not tolerate climate change deniers, so keep your dismissive comments to yourselves, please.) Can you say "Deviating from the comfort zone?"

And...once again I will be chronicling our exploits in this space. I hope that maybe one or two of you might follow along if for no other reason than it would be nice to know that I have an audience approximately the size of a minyan. My ego is in sorry need of some stoking.

It is a funny and slightly ironic thing, but as we have been continuing the plodding process of cleaning and disposal, I came across this.

Apparently it has always been my modis operandi to record travel experiences. This particular "blog" was a 1980 high school music department trip to the UK. Leafing through it made me wince just a bit at the juvenile language structure and the horrendous penmanship, but the memories it inspired are priceless. My parents, also in the throes of their own move, have come across several cassette recordings The L'il Bro and I made documenting some of our family vacations. Journalling and me, we go way back. I find comfort in archiving my experiences. Memory is a fleeting thing. These records bring them flooding back. Social media has made the process so much easier, but the daily exercise of transferring my emotions into words helps me keep the experiences alive forever.

So off we go. Now if somebody could contact the packing faeries and rainbow-coloured relocation unicorns to inform them the coast is clear, I would be eternally grateful.