Au Revoir, Alaskan summers

I was up in Alaska last week, probably for the last time in any sort of work capacity, shutting down our offices and helping with the final transition from Snopac to the company that bought us. This is the first week away from my children, ever and certainly my first time alone for this long in years. The emotion of being away from everyone was blurred with the emotions I am feeling letting this place go.

I started coming up to Alaska when I was little and although we only live here in the summertime, Alaska is in my blood unlike any other place I have called home. I have watched our small village in the bush boom, bust and boom again, following the rhythym of salmon cycles. I have experienced death and birth. I know the rivers and lakes, the tumble of the tundra hills and the icy peaks of the surrounding horizon better than any natural landscape in the world. The memories I have formed here are deeper and more clear than any other memories of my youth.

Part of me rejoices that I will no longer carry the loads I have carried in the past. The stress of this industry and the pressure I was under all the years managing our operation will no longer be mine. I am giddy with the excitement of a new type of summer, one that includes bountiful gardens and sunny days on the beach. 

But another part of me is sad that my children will not grow up with Alaskan summers. Where else on the earth can you step outside your door and look to three horizons, knowing that no other civilization exists within hundreds of miles? Where the silence is deafening and gloriously healing? It is going to be easy in this world to get culture and city and civilization. It is going to be hard for our children to find a solitude like the one Alaska offers. 

Nick and I both have an affinity for this place that will not go away. I have no doubt that we will be back again, children in tow for more adventures. But it won't be the same, it won't be the childhood and adulthood I was raised into here. 

Onwards to new memories...