I live and write on Lingít Aaní, and gratefully acknowledge the past, present and future caretakers of this beautiful place, the Jilkaat Kwaan and Jilkoot Kwaan.

I’ve been humming that John Prine tune, “I’m taking a walk, going outside…” this weather has a pull stronger than gravity. And who can say no to Pearl and her ball? And a person can’t work all day. A writer on a deadline must stretch her legs. Breathe deeply, and get sand between her toes. (Or more accurately, mud. The melting glaciers have deposited a thick sheen of goopy till below the tide line and it’s turned the inlet the color of creamy coffee.)  Speaking of which,I am sipping another cup, and back at my desk, and that book I’m supposed to be writing? The good news is it’s close, and my editor is generous.  (How great is it to even write ‘my editor’? Is this my life or someone else’s?)The neighborhood is quieter, too. My daughter and her husband and baby left for Sitka this morning to wait for the next little girl. She is not due until mid-September, but everyone agrees it is best for her to be close to the hospital, and her in-laws have a home there they can use. Some of the fishing fleet is motoring that way as well, so Uncle Christian will be able to check in on them. All is well, but, as they say, better safe than sorry.

In the meantime, I figured you might like to take a walk too,  wish you were here, but the good thing about being there is  you won’t slip in the muck and Pearl can’t shake on you.