May 25, 2008

Meet Annie Mae

Alaksa tests the language of comparatives and scrambles metaphors: "Land of the Midnight Sun," "the No-See-Ums are so big you can see them."


Even the wildlife seems a bit confused as Spring breaks out at the foot of hills (typically called "mountains" in places less topographically-endowed than Macchu Picchu, Nepal, or Tibet) that received more than 360 inches of snow in 2006 according to local yarn spinners and similarly trustworthy chaps.

Here at the Annie Mae Lodge hummingbirds line up like jetliners on approach to O'Hare Airport waiting their turn at a bird feeder while similarly unsuited species of swallows occupy the perches and ponder what theyy can do with the feast arrayed or cousins more genetically suited to hulling millet and cracking open sunflower seeds. The Lodge's mascot is a mix of Newfoundland and Australian sheep dog. Besides looking remarkable like a brown bear cub with dreadlocks it seems to have established a niche for itself in the locl tourism industry. At dinner a couple from the Netherlands recount how they were shepherded across a field earlier in the day by this fuzzy brown-black who turned what they began as a directonless amble through a meadow into a
guided tour of the property's more canine-memorable sights and smells ending at the beach.

Any late-summer Alaska-grown vegetable not suitable to comparison to the image "larger-than-a-dinner plate" is eligible for the Catch & Release Program of Alaskan Hyperbole.

As I enter Glacier Bay on the Sea Wolf and pass beyond Internet, cell phone, and process-server contact I will collect notes for further posts on a state whose northern reaches cross the Artic Circle but, down here in its balmy Southeast, has me shedding the clothing I put on this morning to keep me warm in San Jose, California four hours to the south.

Posted by rollingrains at May 25, 2008 11:10 PM