Green Apple

Grandma's Feather Bed

Now here's a good brand extension...Grandma's Feather Bed is a Bed & Breakfast in a Victorian style house by Best Western. Yes, you guessed it, in every room, there is a comfy, cozy feather bed. I'm in Juneau, Alaska overnight, waiting to fly to Seattle in the morning. Last night, I left Haines at 1am on a ferry to Juneau, and the intuition of my hostess was right. The ferry did not go out today, so it was wise to take the red eye of the Marine Alaska Highway and get to Juneau this morning. I had a state room on the ferry which translates into two bunk beds, one chair, a small shower and toilet. Bed was the operative word. I lowered the curtain on my ship's eye and stripped down to my cuddleduds. I slept soundly, until I heard the intercom announcing our arrival in Juneau around 5:45am. Still blurry-eyed and in need of a hot shower, Grandma's Feather Bed looked like heaven. I crawled under the quilt, settled down into the feathers, and fell fast asleep.

12 Moose and over 12 Inches of Snow

Finally, had my camera with me and was able to snap a shot of Bullwinkle (sans the rack.) My Moose karma is at an all-time high...so far we've seen 12 moose! Now, a snow storm is moving in and I'm in a snow globe, looking out the window to a sea of white. Looks like I'm going to try to catch the ferry tonight and get into Juneau early tomorrow morning. Not sure if the planes will be leaving or not, so we'll see what the weather is doing when I get there.

Nature's Paintbrush

Pink of a rising sun against the blue of a sky with the dramatic white capped mountains behind. Then, just as I'm taking that in, not quite processed, I see the eagle quietly resting in the tree, framed in the solitude just as the day is beginning. An Alaskan morning offering itself without pretense or fanfare, reminding me that breathing in and of itself is a gift. To breathe and see this, to be reminded that all the stress that clogs our arteries and our souls should be shed. Gone. Here the words "let it go" are believable, doable. I can let go here, one look at a glacier or an eagle soaring, and I know it's possible. Now, the challenge is how to transport this back down to the lower 48, bottle it and drink it (the magical elixir) when blood pressures rise and tempers flare. The Alaskan cocktail is simply a drive down a snow covered road, white clinging to the trees and pines standing starkly. Drink it in and save it for later when you need the quiet of a snow storm to slow the world down.

7 Moose and Counting

I wish I had a killer moose photo to post with this, but alas this is what happens when you're married to a photographer. You are used to someone else capturing every moment, so of course, I didn't have my camera when I saw four more moose today -- bringing me up to a grand total of seven. My sister, Cathy, has deer karma. I'm beginning to think I have Moose karma. They seem to be coming out of the woodwork, and it is surreal seeing them so close after Dad's car accident with a moose in November near his home in Northern Vermont. Of the seven moose, only one had a rack, and two were calves. They look so helpless as they run in snow, their spindly legs struggling with the depth of winter. They turn to look back at the car and the proximity to their calf. They slip on the ice. We are now the predator. We all feel this in the truck, and we stop. I'm thinking that the Mother Moose's heart is beating fast and all she is thinking of is her baby and this steel machine behind her. She's looking for an exit from the road, and finally she sees one, a plowed path down to a desolate warehouse. With her head, she ushers her calf down this path, and then turns to look back at us. You can go now, she seems to say. And we do.

Back in Alaska

Yes, I know it's January 21st. The time when many Alaskans head for warmer climates, but when duty calls...you jump on a plane from Newark to Seattle. Then hop another plane from Seattle to Juneau. Except for one thing. Juneau is swathed in fog. So, the pilot tells us that he's going to try and land, but he only has one shot at it because we're low on gas. So, he swoops down into Juneau and the sparse lights twinkle from our tiny windows, and then just when we think we're home free.....VROOOMMM, back up we go, the cabin vibrating with the force of the decision. "We're going to have to bypass Juneau, sorry folks. We're going to Anchorage." The weary travelers groan and then the regulars on this milk run begin to share their tips about Anchorage. The man next to me recommends the Millenium Hotel because it is right next to the airport and has decent food. It'll be midnight when we land, so "close to the airport" sounds like a good plan. The Millenium looks like a large hunting lodge with every stuffed piece of Alaskan wildlife you can imagine. The polar bear greets me and I make eye contact with it, ready for it to come alive and complete this day of travel. Instead, I shuffle to the reception desk, lime green bag in tow, and heave a sigh of relief. I'm not where I need to be yet, but I am here...back in Alaska.

The next morning, after a hot shower and buffet with a capital B, I go back to the airport in Anchorage to fly back to Juneau and catch the ferry there. After three hours and one margarita, I'm on my way to Juneau. This time the landing is fulfilled, and now I'll be on the ground for a week. Next transport? A ferry from Juneau to Haines, my destination. A cup of joe in my hand, glancing out the glass at snow-capped mountains and glaciers, I marvel again at the crisp beauty of Alaska. I take it in and am grateful to be called back here to the Last Frontier. My gratitude is punctuated by seven dolphins breaking the water as I tip up the styrofoam cup and taste the last drop of coffee.