FOOTPRINTS ON ICE

Everyday, sometime after 7pm I buckle the belt that holds the holster for my 357 Magnum, and head out on to the tundra to walk my dog. I noticed one day, that there is only one set of footprints where I walk. Mine. Frozen solid onto the thick ice of the lake. At first the solitary gray prints molded onto ice and snow made me feel lonely, longing for a human companion to accompany me. But, I've come to realize those are the prints of an adventurer, a woman of inner strength, a loner.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

You can take the girl out of the Tundra but you can't take the Tundra out of the girl

Unalaska...Dutch Harbor....Fox Islands...part of the Aleutian Chain...not, I repeat not, the tundra anymore, Toto. Although I do have to say that their are aspects of tundra here...treeless (except for the few still standing from the WWII era), spongy ground, but, really that's where it ends. It looks like a great being grabbed the two farthest edges of the tundra, gave it a bed sheet type shake and brought it down upon a very lumpy mattress. Presently, the sheet is white with fresh snow, but was emerald green when we arrived here in August.

I did bring a souvenir from the tundra, my husband, a precious Inupiat gentleman who grew up in Barrow and Atqasuk. We moved to Unalaska in August and were married in September. I'm Mrs. Bert Shugluk now, though not 'legally' yet as I haven't followed through with the paperwork.

Thought I'd update. Only been about 3 years since I last wrote, lol. I'll be back..soon.