The weather has been volatile: hail, rainbows, riotous winds, and profoundly gorgeous sun-- all 19+ hours of it. One thing I have learned is that up here, the weatherman is definitely not to be trusted. There is a kind of recognition in the exquisite extremes, and an acceptance when caught in them. I find relief somehow in the opportunity to just be in a constant state unpredictability. Rain or sun? Valley or peak? Paved road or no trail at all? All of these could be just around the corner. And, somehow it feels just right for the moments to unfold, just as they are without knowing exactly what is next. It seems to me that this would only be possible in such a wild place, too powerful to be domesticated by human hands. Yet, in this unpredictability I have found a steadiness in myself, and a sense of place, which is perhaps a sense of home.
words, manipulated flute by SHM; hailstorm in Denali by nature
photos 1, 2, 5 by SHM; photos 3 & 4 by DBP