I could have brought to Alaska a passion for fishing, or for mountains, or volcanoes, glaciers, mighty rivers, wildlife. If so, I might have chosen a different icon. Salmon, Denali, the Matanuska Glacier, the Yukon River, a grizzly bear, moose, or bald eagle. But, though I treasure all of them, my passion is for wildflowers. […]
Fireweed: Alaska’s glowing icon Read More »
After reading my last essay, A Year of Love and Death, on the losses of 2020, both personal and worldwide, my brother-in-law sent me a poem by John O’Donohue called For Grief. My partner George’s Irishness was a wild and wonderful force in his life. In the years before his death, he explored Celtic spirituality with
Last summer, while I was enjoying the ubiquitous glories of the vast stands of fireweed stretching from the Canadian border to the heart of Alaska, I noticed something unusual. Almost always, with a stand of fireweed, were a few stems of yarrow, a white, sometimes pink flower, shaped like a flattened umbrella, with stalks of
Yarrow: a quiet goddess subdues half a planet Read More »
On the way north last summer we were stopped by a wildfire in British Columbia. It had jumped Route 97, and the RV park where we spent the night slowly filled with people who had kept driving and been turned back. The manager warned us that we might be roused from sleep and asked to
Ashes to petals: wildfire and rebirth Read More »