Today, I sat at the end of the Spruce Cape trail in awe. It was an ordinary overcast Kodiak day, yet your beauty and wildness was abundant. Two humpback whales spouted off the point, and glaucous winged gulls crowded the surface of the water above where the whales swam. More gulls and oyster catchers perched on the rocks below the cliff face I sat on, gossiping loudly. A curious harbor seal emerged from the water, upsetting a raft of ducks.
The ground I sat on was eroded enough for the thick layer of volcanic ash from the 1912 Novarupta eruption to show through. I thought about time, and how fascinating it is that the eight inches (more or less) of volcanic ash -- the majority of which was deposited onto you within two days of the eruption -- is almost the same thickness as the soil that has been created through natural processes of decomposition and weathering in the last 104 years since the eruption. I wondered how old the rocks the gulls and oystercatchers sat on were, and I wished I had taken more geology.
A lone stand up paddle boarder paddled towards the opening of the bay. Because of the lighting, they looked as though they were walking slowly but purposefully on top of the water. I thought of Jesus because apparently he walked on water, but that's about as far as I got on that thought because I know less about the Bible than I do about geology.
I sat there, under a branch of the toughest little deformed Sitka spruce tree, a tree that has withstood so many storms, and that is about to withstand another big one this week, and thought about how much goodness I came into this summer. So many good experiences and good people. I graduated college, moved home to work my dream first post-grad job, I was taken in by my community and I was able to save lots of of money by housesitting for people who have really nice houses but decide, for some insane reason that I will not question but instead be grateful for, to leave them in the summer time. I ate your delicious salmon and home grown veggies gifted to me by friends. I saw your bears, mountain goats, foxes, whales, sea otters, puffins... more wildlife than I will probably see in the entire next year. I climbed your mountains, swam in your lakes, walked on your beaches, kayaked to your islands, slept outside, peed outside, and pooped outside (no disrespect, Kodiak). SO MANY GOOD THINGS!
I only have a week left with you, Kodiak, which is a bummer for many reasons, but especially because the dog I've been watching for the last month has finally begun to listen to me when I tell him, "Please stop eating that rotting dead animal you found in the woods", in my most assertive voice. Here's to the good things that make this island home: the people, the plants, the fish, the bears, the ocean. Kodiak, it'll be two years until I'll be able to come back to you but believe me, babe, you'll be on my mind.
XOXO,
Anelise
