June 30th...BC, Yukon Territory, Alaska
This northland's journey moves me from domesticated landscape to the wild. From that which man controls to that which can not be. Four bears in one day. Thirteen total thus far. I park on the banks of rushing rivers or the placid expanse of lakes. That I might sit between FIRE and WATER. I collect wood and strike a match, ever so aware of the 4 elements that bind. EARTH smattered in trails of moose scat; AIR filled with the evening gush of mosquitoes.
It never darkens here. Sunset is no longer an event for which I rush inside and grab my camera. She goes on for hours...hours to sit by a lake and watch her color change from blue hues to rose. To fall trance-like into the water trails of ducks. This, the authentic twilight zone. Soft satin light that does not die. Linear time dissolves.
I am in the land of wild wet. Clouds and waterfalls thread and pour down steep mountainsides for miles. Humidity erases my southwest-sun wrinkles; smooths my sandstone face. No one I meet has dark brown skin like mine. My days of laying naked in the sun are far away down the road.