Season Opener

The preparation is over; the formal training/orientation is complete; and the first guests have come and gone. We're still working out the kinks in scheduling, in new jobs with new staff members even as we explore life together here at the end of the dirt road.

When we arrived for office opening at the end of May, there was still a fair amount of snow patching the Kantishna hills, and in upper Camp, frost heaves and soft spots still dampened the drive outside Potlatch. Early Openers, having flown in at the beginning of May, found much more snow than we did. But as we prepared for the arrival of staff, the air was warm, smiles brightened the landscape, and people darted back and forth about their jobs.

A couple of weeks in, we're all starting to find jobs familiar. New housekeeping staff have located the battery supply for the guest alarm clocks, the greenhouse is supplying herbs for the kitchen, edible flowers for garnish--and working that compost bin! Cooks have shown their mettle with the indredible meals prepared (fresh Alaskan cod, apricot/pistachio-stuffed lamb, roasted vegetables, cinnamon bread French toast, and homemade breads and desserts you wouldn't believe possible)--you can see what my focus is!

Outdoors, along the roadside and across the tundra, flowers spring to life as winter recedes and the short summer overlays the land. Blue chiming bells, yellow Arnica, white Canadian dogwood, pink prickly rose, all these bloom next to tiny low-bush cranberry and blueberry flowers. Birds trill, ducks dip and dive in the kettle ponds. Animals move freely along the road--on Opening Day we had a moose cow and new calf in Nugget Pond (see the blog at www.campdenali.com) --we've spotted a lynx across from North Face Lodge, caribou dot the tundra, ground squirrels whistle and dive into burrows even as bears dig wildly in those burrows to snag a snack.

Of course, the mosquitos are back, too. The first hatch is big, slow, and stupid, and you can usually catch them out of the air with your fist. Following those are the smaller, quicker, hungrier ones. Those are harder to capture, and their bites itchier. It's fun to sit in the office doing my work, and in the quiet I hear a slap--pause--and a whispered jubilant "Yes!" as another of them is taken out of the pool. The good that they do, though, is often forgotten. Mosquitoes are pollinators. When I look at the flowers and scratch those itchy places, I need to remember that! It is also satisfying to know that fish eat them. The mosquitoes, not the flowers.

You'll figure from the preceding that I am happy to be here. I can't think of a stronger understatement. As much as I need time in the city, visits with my daughters, trips to see friends, and weekly church services, I find more and more that this unique National Park is home. The connection to seasonal rhythms with no televison or newspapers to "keep me current" but with an unbelieveable variety of flora and fauna and landscape to observe--this connection grounds me more thoroughly than I can describe.

What a privilege to live here for four months of the year!