Photography, Travel

Alaskan Fog in Black and White

Weeds and Wildflowers “Shrouded in Fog” Prompt

Drifting through the early evening fog, waves lapping against the hull of the catamaran, I felt as if I was slipping into a primeval world of mist and light at the border of a place so vast and wild that my brain had a hard time conceptualizing the enormity of it all.

Sea birds wheeled and cried, drifting high on rising thermals at cliff edges, then dropping free-fall towards the chilled Arctic Sea.

Although the summer solstice was nigh, heavy scrapings of glacial fingers clawed at the granite peaks. Here and there, a smooth face of snow blended into the background of sky and vapor and dimming light.

The hush of the air clung to me and I hugged my newly-purchased puffy coat a little tighter, thinking about the native peoples who inhabited these lands long before us. They had lived with such immense beauty in their daily lives. But the fight for survival in a place so harsh had to be hard and constant.

When the salmon were running, life was good. But when the lungs of winter gripped the land, they must have lived with a certain amount of fear and uncertainty about the future.

The forest breathes here, literally. The fog drifts in and out, catching in the tips of the pines and congealing in the shadowed valleys. And, with the morning’s first light, it rises, spreading across the waters before dissipating into the blue, blue sky.

Or, sometimes, it lingers all day, hugging the hollows, dampening the sounds of the birds and of the waves against the granite shore.

It leaves much to the imagination. What hides within those drifting arms? What watches us as we, newcomers to this land, glide past, peering out into the white haze of Alaska?

This piece was written in response to Dennett’s Weeds and Wildflowers prompt: Shrouded in Fog. You might enjoy some of the other pieces:

Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies).

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