A Chilkat Morning
I jogged around town this morning and then home from Morning Muscles. I had that Chelsea morning song in my head, it was so nice. I changed it to Chilkat morning though. On Lynn Canal there were calm seas, and a very light northerly. The roads were dry with some ice on the low places, but plenty of snow was still banked up on the sides and covering the yards. Woodsmoke drifted from a few chimneys. A little lavendar brightened the gray and white sky. The boat harbor was quiet. Main Street deserted. Dale was cleaning the library. Tomi was turning the lights on at The Parts Place, and a baker was outside in her apron having a smoke before opening Mountain Market. Up through the back of the Fort all was quiet. But I started seeing a few cars and trucks coming down Small Tracts Road. James and Matt checking the roads in the DOT pick-up, Deb heading out to take care of someone who needs some help at home today, Lisa on her way to cook breakfast at the school, Brad off to inspect the pilings at the cannery, Sunny on his way to take heli-skiers up and down the not so distant peaks for the day. Chris was on his bicycle, pedaling to build to another hot tub for a movie star, perhaps. He helped make the one that Jennifer Aniston put in her Malibu bathroom at the SeaOtter Woodworks shop, right here in Haines. Judy was walking her German wire-haired pointer, and we agreed that we would both keep moving until we dropped. When I looped around at Carr's Cove the tide was out and the sky even brighter. The chickadees and junkos chirped in the brush. An avalanche thundered above Pyramid Island. It was a Chilkat morning, with spring in sight, and as poet Mary Oliver said-- I was the lucky person in it.