Its been awhile since I wrote. Been off in the woods, both in my mind and the literal ones.
Recently returned from a weekend out at Cuzuncle David's, up above Resurrection Bay and Lowell Point, outside of Seward, the place that feels the most like home.
When I fell in love with Nick during a hiking expedition across the Alaska Range, I remember lying next to him on a rare sunny afternoon as we dried our gear, and in his glacier blue eyes I saw us together in the future, a cabin in the woods and us walking towards each other.
This is what I want.
Wilderness for the wild side of me that strains against all this plastic and organization.
Life outside of it all--that's what called me to Alaska all those fourteen years ago.
Nick too came to the call of a Lynx leaving footprints out your back door.
And the possibility of trails beyond what's known.
But for us the unbelievable came not in an epic adventure but in the breaking open of who we were and what we knew, through the tiniest of souls.
Today is world prematurity day, and so I hear-by salute every family with a child born too soon. And every medical professional who holds those tiny babies in the palms of their hearts keeping them alive when no prayers could.
The mountains I expected to climb when I came to Alaska hold nothing over the obstacles conquered in neonatal units daily.
And now, ten years later, no longer bound to the hospitals and therapy clinics of Anchorage, we again imagine life outside.
On Saturday, Nick helped David pull trees for firewood, while Olive, Elias, and I snuck up on them through the woods.
Without trails, we did what call "bushwacking", ducking through Alder, breaking branches, climbing over downed Hemlock and Spruce, avoiding the talons of Devil's Club.
All this with a boy who walks with the help of two canes.
Olive led the way, balancing on fallen trees, pretending to cross shark-infested water, Elias laughed every time his cane fell in a squirrel hole or his feet caught on roots, and I trailed them both, longing for a quicker pace but also somewhat content to stroll along, and every so often lift Elias up.
Somewhere between the mossy lair and the Devil's Club jungle, we became an Olympic team of Bushwackers racing imaginary opponents to David's cabin.
We, of course, were in the lead, but the other guys were closing in on us, so we needed to work together to find Strawberry hill.
As we made it to the top, Olive raised her hand in the air and said, "We won! We won!"
"Yay team!" I cheered.
And Elias just leaned into both of us and laughed in that way of his that makes everything alright.